The King’s settling of scores
by PaisleyRose
Summary: Another look at what happens when a girl wins back the baby, but refuses a spoiled King. It's been one year, and she's now 16, and he's still Jareth. Edited to flow better... thanks for the reviews.
1. Chapter 1

**The King's settling of scores**

**By **

**PaisleyRose**

**Disclaimer:**

**Its Henson's not mine…**

**I get no pay for this…**

**I do it because the King tells me to.**

**--**

**I'm taking a break from my more harrowing stories..**

**Needed something a bit lighter.**

**So I'm offering you this…**

**If you like it….. great..**

**If not…**

**Oh well**

_**Chapter 1.**_

__Sarah Williams was not like other girls, she'd understood that long before she encountered a certain Fae King. Although when it came right down to it, she didn't want to be like the other girls. On the contrary, while other girls were getting moon-eyed over some young stud or jock, Sarah was still dressing in costumes and running about the park playing out the roles of heroines from Fairy Tales and novels. At first it was only the dog Merlin who took part in her elaborate games of fantasy. Now she even included little Toby, dressing him up and bringing him to the park as well. What a sight they made, a girl with eyes of emerald green, skin like cream, lips kissed with honeyed promises and hair like spun chocolate dressed in a long fairytale gown, a huge shaggy Old English Sheep dog and a baby dressed in make believe armor in a stroller all headed to the glade in the park. The glade was still Sarah's favorite place to play, and Toby loved the Swans. Merlin, now showing his age just seemed content to be a part of it all.

At sixteen, a year after the night she'd battled for the return of her wished away baby brother, Sarah had changed very little indeed. She still had eyes like green emeralds that had gone to liquid lava. Her skin was still flawless, and creamy. Her hair was still long, thick and the color of dark chocolate. Her lips still held honeyed promises. Anyone looking at her would think she was just a normal teenager. She dressed like the rest of the kids at school, she listened to the same music, she took the same classes and reacted the same way when assigned homework. However it was what most people didn't see at first glance that set Sarah Williams apart and made her a bit of a loner. Sarah had always been different, and it was more than just the fact that her mother was an actress. She was like a person out of step with time and her surroundings. She had never been a joiner, and didn't have many friends. When her mother had left the girl had pulled into a world of books and dreams, where the broken promises of adults in the 'real' world could not reach her. It was safe in her dreamy world and full of adventure as she played out all the fantasies a girl could ask for. The only thing was that she was alone in her dream world, with the exception of Toby and Merlin. Most of the girls she'd know even slightly were no longer interested in dress up, or make believe. Most of her school mates were interested in more grown up games, forbidden games. What few friends she had were putting distance between themselves and the girl who they felt was out of it.

Having turned sixteen just before the new school year, she felt a bit worn down when Karen her stepmother started asking about school the first week after it commenced. She got off easy that first week, because actually it was just three days to start with. But on Friday night when she got home, Karen had demanded, not asked but actually demanded to know what clubs Sarah intended to go out for this year. On the spot and feeling a noose tightening about her slender throat, she blurted out Service Club and Drama as they were the first things she could think of. Karen, satisfied walked off with a comment about needing to know what dues were due and if Sarah needed money for a club jacket or sweater. Sarah frowned; she was stuck good and solid. Like it or not she was going to have to apply for acceptance into the clubs or Karen would make her life a living hell. It wasn't that Karen was trying to make her life a hell, Sarah knew that now. Karen in an effort to improve relations, she had started asking Sarah to invite young folks her age over for a get together. Sarah had asked two long time classmates over on one occasion only…it had been a disaster, one that Sarah would not soon forget. The two girls she'd invited over didn't want to play board games, they wanted to discuss boys, Sarah felt like a stranger in her own home, and was determined not to let that happen again. If Karen needed her to join a club, she'd join a club, anything to keep up appearances. So long as she didn't have to invite someone over and feel like she was being forced into something she was not comfortable with.

Monday morning came and she got the information on the two clubs to take to study hall to fill out. Sitting in the back of the study hall she could see every one who walked in. The hall filled up with the usual kids and they took their usual seats. Nothing was assigned in this study hall you sat where you wanted, or where you were expected to. Geeks and nerds were at the far right front, going over notes for science or computer courses. Behind them at the right rear were the guys from the shop classes discussing efficient engines. Socialites were in the center and going over what activities they could join to be seen, mostly the girls as the guys didn't want to be seen as so climbing. At the left and rear of the room were the jocks tossing a foot ball about a circle as they discussed the big game coming up. In the front and left were the cool guys, and where Sarah sat in the back, just in front of the monitor's desk were the kids who either had not joined a group as yet, or had no idea what group to join.

Sarah brushed the hair back behind her ear, and watched the clock. One minute before the bell her eyes moved off the clock to the group of six boys who entered the study hall in a pack. They were mostly seniors, one or two were juniors, and they were following a boy Sarah had not seen before. She had to admit though this guy was _**cool**_. He dressed sharper than most of the guys, his clothes looked like part of him, but that he was still in control. His slim slacks were dark, as was the shirt he'd chosen for this day; instead of regular shoes or tennis shoes he wore a low cut black leather Cuban heeled boot. His pale gold hair had been cut on the long side, but was swept back and up. It was not a mullet, nor was it a seagull it was uniquely his own. He walked as if he owned the world and everyone else was lucky to be on the same planet and being slender he looked taller than he was. His lean sinewy frame was not so thin that he looked weak; rather it was the fact that he looked trim and well toned. 'Cut', came to Sarah's mind, before it went a bit darker and thought 'ripped.' He and his five followers entered the room and six chairs were emptied for them. Sarah had heard there was a new group of 'Bad Boys' she was sure this was them. She recognized a couple of the boys, but not this new leader. Watching him take his seat she could see why he was in command. The young man moved with confidence, and authority, directing and commanding without once having to raise his voice. Sarah found the corner of her mouth curving up into a half smile as she watched him direct the members of his personal 'court'. It amused her that she was still thinking in terms that were out of place in the mundane world, and school.

Sarah looked from the activity in front back down to the applications she was supposed to fill out. Service club was where everyone went who needed an excuse to get out of the house. Meetings were once a week and kept short, and everyone and anyone could join. It was the place most of the fall through the cracks kids went just to have something to put in the year book. It was not the place she wanted to be, and she set the application aside. Drama was the one that would be harder to get accepted into; however that was the one place she thought she might fit in. Filling out that form first she noticed a head reading over her shoulder and turned to see who was in her space.

"Hi, you're Sarah Williams, aren't you?" the girl asked with a broad smile. "I'm Liz Scott…" she pointed to the application. "I see you're interested in joining the Drama Club." Her voice was breathy and soft and overall extremely pleasant.

"Yes, I am." Sarah admitted seeing no way out of this conversation.

"Of course you are, after all you are the daughter of Linda Williams, aren't you." The other girl was blonde and blue eyed and looked like a walking Barbie doll. "I'm in the Drama club and it helps to have someone sponsor you. Would you like me to be your sponsor?"

The offer was out of the blue and almost too good to be true. Sarah had heard it took a sponsor to get accepted. "Why would you do that?" alarms went off like flames in her brain. She was expecting to hear some song and dance about her Mother, the famous Linda Williams, having been a member of the Drama Club and how fitting it would be for Sarah to join. What she heard surprised her.

"Passing on a favor done for me last year when I was a junior," the blond said taking a seat beside Sarah. "I get you in, next year you do something nice for someone else." Liz was a bit overly animated for early morning, but she seemed to be on a natural high.

"Sounds chancy," Sarah said thinking out loud. "What if I don't pass it on?"

"You'll pass it on," Liz said with confidence. "We all do… can't seem to get around it. And besides, it does not mean you have to pass it on by getting someone into the Drama Club… maybe it will be your acting as mentor to a freshman or something. Let me have that application," she took Sarah's application and signed the bottom of the form with her own pen and asked for a piece of paper. Five minutes later she passed both the signed application and the letter back to Sarah. "There's your letter of recommendation." She stood up and winked at Sarah as if they were old friends. "See you at the kick off meeting tonight, Sarah." Liz then sauntered up to the front of the class where the cool kids sat and took a seat with her clique.

Sarah stared at the pages, if she wanted in; here it was handed to her on a sliver platter with no strings attached and no reference to her mother. Tucking the papers into her folder she forgot all about the service club form. Laughter from the front of the class room drew her attention and she stared at the six guys who had turned their seats to face each other and were talking a bit louder than the rest of the classroom. The leader was laughing lightly at something one of the other boys had said, it was a wonderful sound, but it made Sarah nervous. She had not meant to stare, but while she was doing so he looked up. His eyes sweeping over the back of the room and for just an instant he connected with her. Sarah felt the warm flush of color flood her cheeks as she looked down. She didn't look up again until the passing bell sounded. Gathering her books she moved to the closest door, the one he was seated near. She nervously clutched her books and waited her turn to exit. She wondered why it was he and his group had not been the first ones out the door, if they had she would not be feeling quite so nervous. He looked up just as she passed, he didn't smile but his eyes looked almost pleased. She felt the color rise again and she could swear she heard him growl in the back of his throat. To her utter embarrassment she heard herself squeak lightly.

"Don't bother," she heard one of his buddies say as she was getting near the door. "That's the Ice Princess, Sarah Williams." Sarah knew the voice belonged to Todd Green, a boy she'd grown up with and could not stand. Feeling as if the world was crashing in on her, she wondered if she could just this once wish someone away and not feel guilty about it.

She could hear him shift in the seat and look at her. "She doesn't look like ice to me," she heard a British accent state confidently. "Maybe you Yanks just don't know how to fire a volcano." He watched with a haughty smirk as she sped away. "Run Rabbit run," he said to himself.

Sarah nearly dropped her books, but gripped them tightly as she made her escape out the door and rushed down the hall to her next class. She paused at the door to catch her breath before she entered. Taking a seat in the back of the room she wondered if this could be the year she was going to blossom as her mother predicted. Linda had told her not to worry about being a social late bloomer, as she herself was one. The class was History, and while it put many of the other students to sleep, it fired Sarah up. She was partnered up as a study partner by the instructor with a girl she'd seen in other classes over the years, Becky Reynolds. Becky was a flaming red head, with a wild temperament but a good soul. Sarah knew Becky lived not to far from her and asked if she took the cross-town bus, figuring she'd have someone to ride with and converse with after school.

"Cross-town? Hell, daddy got me a Volkswagen for my sweet sixteen back in May." Becky said smartly. "Hey, I'll drive you home… maybe we can start our own car pool. What do you say; we can meet in the parking lot…"

Sarah hesitated, "I'm not going straight home today; I'm trying out for the Drama Club."

"Me too," Becky said in a gush of excitement. "OH it would be sooooo cool if we got accepted together! Did you find someone to sponsor you?" Her hazel eyes began to sparkle as she spoke. "I hear the Drama Club is one of the Club's sponsoring the big mixer this Friday… You're going aren't you?"

"I usually sit my kid brother on Fridays…but I'll see what my parents say." Sarah said covering her self for either response at home. After all Karen had said she wanted her to date and to get out more. Well she couldn't do that if she was at home with Toby. "You say the Drama Club is one of the sponsors of the mixer?"

Becky heard the passing bell and said quickly. "Meet me at the Drama Club meeting, I save you a seat if I get there first, and you do the same… I'll drive you home after." They exited the room together, but Becky paused as a group of boys walked past them. "Ohhhhhhh, the Bad Boys are so cool; God how I love hot boys, be nice if they looked at a Junior once in a while." Becky was drooling openly.

Sarah blushed, as she nodded in agreement, not trusting her voice. She watched as the tall lean blond led the group toward the stairs. Something familiar struck a cord in her as he turned to speak to one of the boys; he had paused with his feet on two different stairs. He looked…regal, imposing, haughty and smug and when he laughed she cringed as fear swept over her. Sarah shook herself and reminded her self this was not the Underground…this was Above. There was really no similarity, she told herself. There was no reason for her to be afraid of a seventeen or eighteen year old boy. She forced the feeling away and ran off to her next class.

The day's classes ended and Sarah rushed to the room where the Drama Club was meeting. Liz was one of the greeters and looked pleased that Sarah made the meeting. Becky was saving a seat for her, and she joined her in the back of the little theater. They listened to the speeches by the out going officers of the club and awaited the list of who had made it. When both Becky and Sarah's names were read the girls breathed a sigh.

Becky tucked her arm into Sarah's as they paraded down the hall to the exit that led to the student parking lot. Not all of the students headed out the door were as happy with the outcome of the announcements as they were. Some students looked forlorn, and were stopping to pick up applications to the service club. "We're in like Flynn;" boasted the madcap redhead happily. "Getting accepted into the Drama Club is like being given a key to some exclusive night club in New York. There's not an event or function we won't be invited to!"

Sarah had expected the lot to be empty but was surprised to find a good many of the clubs had meetings after school and the lot was only half empty. Cars were scattered here and there, some with students loitering about them, talking to other students who'd been in club meetings, or waiting for someone to get out of a meeting. She could see the little red bug that Becky was heading for she could also see the dark green rag top little sporty _**1975 Triumph TR6**_, parked beside it. Becky began to drool before they were even near it.

"Would you look at that, that's a classic;" Becky said excitedly as she moved swiftly toward the sleek English car, Becky was literally drooling.

"I don't know much about cars," Sarah ventured to say as she followed her class mate toward the green machine; she had to admit the car was hot. From the dark forest green paint to the black leather interior, it said hot with a capital H.

"I do," Becky announced. "I've got three older brothers and I sort of picked it up from them." She moved to the front and nodded curtly. "International pates, bet it belongs to that dreamboat hottie who is leading the Bad Boys. Damn but he's got balls, I hear his family is here on extended business, importers or some such thing. Jenny Michaels told me the old Winston estate is being leased by some English family. Oh what I wouldn't give to see this run…"

"Oh?" Sarah felt uncomfortable, but could not make an issue of it as she didn't want Becky to see how uncomfortable she was; "The Winston estate?" Sarah knew the place, there wasn't a kid in town who didn't know that Tudor styled house behind the tall brick wall at the edge of town. Everyone knew its sorted history as well. It had belonged to one of the founding families. It had been everything from a private home to a speakeasy during probation, and even was a bed and breakfast for a time. Then it had just sat empty, and it was said to be haunted.

To get Sarah's attention again, Becky snapped her fingers in the other girls face. "This Sarah is a limited addition, 1975 Triumph it's called a TR6, and it's got _**attitude**_." Becky said with a bit of a swagger as she moved about the sleek little car.

"Your friend is right," a voice said behind them, turning they saw the owner and his friends advancing he was lighting a cigarette oblivious to the school rules of no smoking on school grounds. "It does have attitude, just like its driver." The leader of the pack smiled at Becky, "I see you know your cars." He addressed Becky blowing out a long release of the smoke he'd just dragged into his mouth and lungs.

"I know what I like," Becky said boldly, standing her ground, appearing not even slightly intimidated by the imposing figure or his friends.

"Nice," Tom Bradley purred at her. "How do you feel about older model mustangs?"

Becky froze, her smart assed veneer dropped, and the girl went into fan mode. "What year?" she asked moving toward the other member of the cool group; "How many horses?" The girl began to rapid fire questions to the handsome dark haired boy who was eyeing her like she was a candied apple.

Sarah would have liked to have moved away but found herself surrounded by the entire group as they pressed closer to watch sparks fly from Tom to Becky. She was aware that the owner of the triumph was standing right up against her, blushing she tried to move discreetly away. A voice sounded like a buzz in her ear. "Do I need track shoes, rabbit?"

Sarah looked at him, blinking rapidly. "Excuse me?"

"Do I need track shoes?" He repeated with mischief in his eyes that were the color of the deepest end of the ocean. "I mean if you're going to run like a scared rabbit every time you see me…"

"I'm not running," she denied hugging her books even tighter. There was suddenly a glint of fire in the emerald eyes. "Who says I'm running?"

"No?" he teased gently. "My mistake…" He leaned slightly, placing a hand on either side of her, forming a cage with his body and his car. He smiled at her coyly and said. "Well, you're not running _**now**_." He watched her blush deepen. "I'm Jerry King, and you are?"

"Sarah Williams," she introduced herself nervously absolutely aware of how close he was standing and the heat that poured off his slender frame. She was also aware of the spicy scent that clung to the air near him. Something in that spicy fragrance filled her senses and set off little shocking alarms and prickles all through her body. As her blood began to race, she noticed a feeling of her temperature rising.

"So is Sarah a bad little girl?" his voice was suggestive and gravelly, and when she blushed he continued. "You're very late getting out of prison there." He inclined his head toward the school. His voice was hopeful; "So did you do something deliciously naughty?"

"No, we just joined the Drama Club," Sarah whispered, afraid it would not be cool enough for this roguish male. The closeness of his frame to hers was beginning to set off disturbing little reactions.

Instead of being turned off he appeared to be majorly turned on. "Drama Club is cool… I like to play." He teased. "Of course I play a bit rougher than most…"

Sarah looked up at the eyes gazing with serious intent into hers. "I'm sure you do," her voice quivered just slightly.

"We'll have to play something out together sometime," Jerry King moved closer, making it impossible for her to move. "Do you the like wheels?"

"It's very nice," she replied as she was backed up further against the car, she looked over her shoulder at the car. But his reaction brought her face back to his, and she drew in her breath sharply when she noticed how close he was.

"_**Nice**_," his voice mocked her but not meanly, more playfully. "Baby this ride is not _**nice**_, it's _**baaaddddddd**_. Just like its owner." He could see she was wishing she had a really stinging retort she looked up at him unflinchingly. "This rod is hot and ready," her bravado fell totally apart when he brushed his cheek to hers as he growled softly at her ear, even as his skin grazed hers he could feel the temperature rise. "Want to go for a ride?"

Before Sarah could answer Becky's voice broke in. "Good God, look at the time, Sarah I got to get home, I told them I was staying after for the meetings and would be right home after." Becky turned to Tom, "You're coming to the mixer?" When he nodded, she called to him as she moved to her car. "Look for me there."

Sarah wondered if Jerry were going to let her move or not when he suddenly stepped sideways and leaned his hip on the car, watching the girl move skittishly to the passenger's side of the VW, and got in as fast as she could and locked her door. "See you round… Sarah." He said suggestively watching her color rise and bloom as the girl hugged her school books and hunkered down.

As they pulled away two more girls moved toward the group of guys. One of the girls was headed straight for Jerry King, the expression on her face showed she was fit to be tied. Marcy Daniels moved toward Jerry clearly upset that he'd been paying such close attention to the Williams girl, a girl she considered a bit of a freak. "You know, you're going to freeze that dick of your on that little ice princess," she warned coarsely.

"Freeze it, burn it, it's all the same," he quipped getting into his car before turning a cold stare in her direction. "What I do with my dick is my business, not yours."

"Why waste time on her?" Marcy said with a look of disgust, trying to keep from screaming and making a fool of her-self; "I'm more than willing to give you what ever you need or want."

"I don't recall asking, but I do recall refusing your…offers." Jerry said coldly. "Besides, David has designs on you…for what ever reason... and I've told you, you're not my type." He gunned the engine, spun the tires and pulled out of the lot.

Marcy watched him pull away. "Well I have designs too," she looked at David Merck getting into one of the other cars. Now that Jerry King had exited, the rest of his followers were also following suit. David was one of the first to walk away but he looked over at Marcy, looking like he wanted to say something to the girl giving him an icy gaze. "And they don't include him!" She looked over her shoulder at her companion. "I always get what I want, and I want Jerry King."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

Becky pulled up to Sarah's curb, still talking as she had been the whole trip home. "So you see if we go to the mixer without dates it doesn't matter… It's the getting together that's important. So what do you say, Sarah? Shall we?"

Sarah had never even gotten a chance to answer when the front door opened and Karen stepped out onto the porch to see who had pulled up. Seeing the look of concern on her step mother's face, Sarah asked Becky to let her introduce her. Becky nodded, more overjoyed than Sarah thought some one should be. "Becky Reynolds, this is Mrs. Karen Williams, my step mother. Karen, this is Becky… she and I just joined the Drama Club today."

Becky laughed happily, "I'm very happy to meet you, Mrs. Williams."

Karen's concern seemed to vanish. "Would you like to come in?" she asked the lively redhead.

"I can't," she apologized. "Have to get home." She turned to Sarah and held her arm. "Let me know, think about it at least. I'll pick you up in the morning, and we can make our plans." She rushed back to her car and pulled off while the Williams women waved.

"Pick you up in the morning?" Karen asked. "Think about what?"

"Becky and I are going to car pool to school… saves me having to walk to the bus stop and sit in the weather, and we can share the cost of gas. It'll be less than weekly bus fair." Sarah said moving past her and into the house. "There's this mixer Friday night, all the kids show up at the school and the PA system plays music and we dance in the student center and hall in front of the Cafeteria and little theater. Two or three of the clubs serve refreshments in the cafeteria. I told Becky I'd talk to you about it…"

"That sounds nice," Karen said closing the door behind her as she too entered the foyer. "What time does it start and how long does it go on?"

Sarah looked at Karen as if she'd suddenly grown a second head. "It starts at seven and goes until almost eleven…" she paused and reminded the strawberry blond of the day of the mixer. "Karen, it's Friday…and you and dad are going to the Marshalls' dinner party, remember? I told you I'd sit with Toby on Friday, remember?"

Her stepmother smiled softly. "Sarah, do you want to go to this mixer?" When the girl reluctantly shook her head yes, Karen winked at her. "WE can get another sitter; you don't have to sit home with your brother all the time, remember I told you I want you to have dates? Mrs. Miller, that nice old widow down the block has offered to sit anytime we need. I'll give her a call and see if she's available." Sarah watched in amazement as Karen dialed the number of the neighbor and had a nice little conversation. When the phone was replaced, Karen smiled at her. "So what are you going to wear to this mixer?"

Sarah stared, not sure she was hearing right, had her stepmother who just a year ago she'd relegated to the role of 'Wicked Stepmother' really just told her she could go. Was she really asking her what she wanted to wear, could it really be she was really happy to hear about something good in Sarah's life? "My green Dirndl outfit, I think… I have to sign up for a time slot serving refreshments…" She followed Karen into the kitchen to help with dinner.

--

Becky waved wildly at Sarah as she came racing out of the front door and ran to the car the following morning. "So?" The girl with red curls shaking as she moved her head looked at her new friend with questioning eyes.

"My stepmother got a sitter for my brother, I can go." Sarah said feeling the excitement brewing. "I can go!"

"Great," Becky drove to the school discussing plans for the rest of the week.

Sarah had not had many friends, not since her mother had left to pursue her career. She had felt isolated, so this was a new experience and she was enjoying it. Becky was bright, funny and totally up front. Not once had she asked about Sarah's mother the actress, or any of the famous people Sarah must know through her mother. Because of that, Becky's excitement was spilling over onto Sarah, and she was beginning to think about how much fun this up coming mixer really could be. Beyond that she was thinking how much fun all of Junior year was going to be.

--

On Friday evening Mrs. Miller showed up at the house at six thirty. Robert was holding two year old Toby on his lap in the parlor. Karen answered the door, and thanked the older woman for sitting for them. Mrs. Miller took Toby from his father and told the parents to have a lovely evening. When Sarah came down stairs the woman was playing some game with the little boy. She looked up from where she and Toby were curled up on the couch and smiled at the girl. "My, don't you look nice," she complemented Sarah.

Sarah had always liked the older woman, who looked as if she had just stepped from the pages of a fairytale book. She was tiny and had a cheery face, and a happy aura, and dressed in a very old fashioned manner. Never once had Sarah seen the older woman in a pair of slacks Sarah doubted the older woman even owned a pair. Mrs. Miller had lived in the neighborhood long before Robert and Linda had bought the old Victorian that Robert had kept after the divorce. The older woman was a widow when they moved in. When Linda had left it was under the Miller porch that Sarah had hidden for hours, refusing to come out. Only Mrs. Miller's chocolate chip cookies had coaxed her from under the porch. Sarah found herself pouring her heart out to the older woman, who was what most children wished their grandmother's were like. From that day on, she was a special person to Sarah and she was glad she was watching over her baby brother. She was someone Sarah trusted, someone she loved.

"Thank you, Mrs. Miller," Sarah watched as they continued to play their game. In a way she envied Toby being able to stay home and play with the loveable surrogate Granny. "My ride will be here in a few minutes, and I'll be home about eleven." She took a seat in a side chair. "Thanks for sitting with Toby tonight."

"Think nothing of it, dear," the older woman stated while she played with the baby. "I'm just happy to be doing something instead of rambling around in that big lonely house of mine. And I love the idea of being able to watch you grow up and go out to parties and school functions. It makes up for not having any grand children of my own. I'm just so grateful your parents are willing to share you and Toby…"

Not moments later the sound of a horn blasting altered Sarah. "That's Becky," she stood up and grabbed her purse and her jacket. "Good night, Mrs. Miller." She blew at kiss to the pair still seated. "See you around eleven or so."

"Have a nice time Sarah," the old widow reached over and told Toby to wave bye-bye.

Becky was dressed in a long dark blue jeans skirt and a peasant blouse. She had pulled her long red hair back and tied it with a ribbon. Her big hazel eyes showed approval of Sarah's choice of clothes for the evening. The Dirndl skirt with its matching vest in forest green with the buttercup yellow blouse looked outstanding on Sarah as did the doeskin boots with a large chunky heel. "Wow," she gushed, "I love that boot you're wearing….You'll have to tell me where you got them. I want a pair just like them! We are going to have fun tonight, girlfriend!" She pulled her VW onto the road and began the drive to the school. "We each have to put in a half hour on the refreshment table; I put us down for the eight thirty to nine slot so we'll be working together if that's alright with you." Sarah nodded and Becky giggled. "I'm so glad we joined the Drama Club together. There are all kinds of things we can do together."

"Me too," Sarah said happily. "I really think we're going to have fun."

The school was already filling with warm bodies, and the lot was getting filled as well. The mixers at the high school were a very popular event, and well attended. Becky found a place to park near the rear of the student parking, and asked Sarah if she minded the long walk to the building, when she was told the distance was not a problem the girl parked. Sarah had joked that Becky had no idea of how far or long she could walk.

Sarah's locker was on the main floor, just off the corridor that was being used for the dance. She suggested to Becky that they put their purses and jackets in the locker for safe keeping. Becky agreed, and after they stowed the items, the girls looked for one of the other members of the Drama Club. They found Liz speaking to one of the senior boys in the Club. The music was blasting, hot bodies danced wildly in the open center. Some of the Chaperones looked a bit upset, but refrained from doing anything just yet. Both girls moved onto the dance floor, dancing with each other for lack of male partners. As usual the girls were out numbering the boys at this affair, and if you didn't come with a date, you most likely ended up dancing with a gal pal. Several times they danced with each other, and once or twice with shy boys who were trying to prove they were not geeks.

After a while they took a break, Becky and Sarah sitting on the stairs in front of the Auditorium along with others who were sitting out the wild dance number, when Jerry King and his Bad Boys entered collectively. Sarah felt the electricity in the air change, and looked to where the group stood getting their hands stamped. Becky noticed Sarah's intent gaze and leaned closer to her new friend. "He's so very yummy," she agreed in a purr.

Sarah blushed, "Becky!" The free spiritedness of the other girl surprised and delighted Sarah. It gave her an excuse to behave in a similar manner.

The girl with red hair nudged Sarah. "Go ask him to dance."

"No," Sarah said turning away. "I don't know him well enough to be so forward."

Becky smiled, but the smile faded when she saw Marcy Daniels strutting over to Jerry King. "Damn, Marcy is stalking him." Becky, like most of the Junior girls had experienced Marcy at some point in her life. It was oblivious that Becky didn't care for the personality that had developed in the other. Most of the Junior class knew Marcy was a 'mean girl', and just stayed out of her way not wanting to become a casualty. Becky glared daggers as she watched the oblivious moves Marcy was putting on Jerry King.

Sarah turned her head and looked, she had not meant to, but didn't seem to be able to control herself. "I thought Jenny said Marcy was dating David Merck." Her voice betrayed more upset than she'd wanted, and she cleared her throat.

"Jenny said David _**wants**_ to date Marcy, not that he _**was **_dating her…" corrected the other before she gasped. Jerry King had snubbed Marcy, in front of God and Everybody! He had brushed past her as if she didn't exist. "Did you see that?"

Jerry walked past Marcy, toward a group of seniors that included Liz Scott. He spoke to the group and then held out his hand expectantly and Liz took to the dance floor. Marcy stood on the sidelines watching and fuming. Sarah watched as the masterful handsome Brit danced with her sponsor. "I'd rather see him with someone like Liz," Sarah whispered to Becky. "I don't like Marcy, she's… snaky."

"Snaky is the word for it alright," Becky agreed, looked at her watch and informed Sarah it was time to go man the refreshments tables; "Time to head to the salt mines."

The Cafeteria was set up so that the kids, who wanted to, could have something to drink and sit away from the crowds dancing. Long rows of tables near the front of the room were set up with cans of soda, and bottles of fruit punch. Sarah began clearing away empty cans that had not been discarded into the trash while Becky got a damp cloth and wiped down the tables. The both restocked the fresh cans of soda in the coolers and went to get more ice. Becky was holding the big bag while Sarah was using a scoop to fill the coolers again when Marcy and her friend Laura Davis entered the Cafeteria. Marcy rudely pushed Sarah aside; Laura gave both Becky and Sarah a challenging look that was more of a sneer.

Sarah silently and calmly moved aside while the girl rambled about in the cooler looking for something to drink, complaining loudly that there wasn't anything of interest in the cooler. Finding a diet drink that was to her liking at the bottom of the cooler she shook off the ice making sure it spattered on Sarah. When Becky moved forward to protest, Sarah stopped her not wanting to see her friend take on the rude girl and her lackey. Marcy laughed at them as she walked over to the most conspicuous table where she and Laura took seats. Her callous malicious behavior was shameful and was going unchallenged.

Becky watched the two with a grim expression, "I don't see why you let her treat you like that."

"She's not important," Sarah shrugged, as she continued to fill the cooler and resettle cans and bottles the other girl had upset in the container. "I prefer to pick my battles, and to fight only the ones worth fighting, Marcy is not one worth fighting." Looking at the table where the two girls sat, Sarah knew they were looking for attention, and didn't wish to reward them. She saw Marcy preen when the Bad Boys entered the Cafeteria. She watched as the girl stuck her chest out suggestively, and wondered to herself just how much of that bulge was Marcy and how much was padding. The thought made Sarah snicker.

Jerry ignored both Marcy's and Laura's pleas that he sit with them, instead he strolled over to the refreshments and smiled at Sarah and Becky. "Got any ginger beer in there?" he asked mischievously.

Sarah stared at him for a moment before remembering he'd asked for a drink. She looked at her list, and shook her head. "The only Ginger drink I have is Ginger Ale, sorry."

"I'll make do," holding out his hand he waited for her to find the cold can of soda. When she gave it to him he thanked her and moved away from where Marcy was still calling to him. After getting cans of cold soda, his crew followed him to a table near the rear of the large room. They sat watching all the students who were coming and going.

Becky nudged Sarah, "Marcy is so out of her league there." Her voice was low, not wishing to be overheard by the pair at the conspicuous table at the front of the room. "He's not interested in her and her padded chest." She said the last part of the sentence as if she had inside knowledge of the facts.

"I saw him dance with Liz Scott," Sarah nodded, but her eyes were not on the handsome young Brit. She was watching Marcy, knowing something was about to happen. Marcy stood up and knocked over her can of soda. The rude girl snapped her fingers at Sarah and demanded that she clean up the mess. Sarah watched her saunter out of the room as if she were the only person in the building. Getting the clean up bucket Sarah mopped up the table and then the sticky soda off the floor. When she finished she noticed that Jerry King and his crowd had left. For the next fifteen minutes Sarah and Becky kept the room cleaned up and the coolers stocked. At nine, they were released from table duty and went back into the student center.

Becky pulled Sarah out to the dance floor when a lively song started blasting on the speakers. Sarah, who would have been self-conscious, found that with Becky she felt no sense of awkwardness. She moved to the beat and was enjoying the music. For Sarah, it was as if she and Becky were dancing alone in her room, and she moved freely to the lively tune.

"I guess _**they**_ can't get a_** guy **_to dance with them," insulted Marcy from the stairs of the Auditorium, now hanging on to one of the Jocks who had no idea of whom she was speaking about. Laura hanging on the Jock's buddy agreed.

Jerry and Tom, seated a few stairs behind them overheard, Jerry looked at Sarah dancing. He nudged Tom and motioned to the rest of his crew who had coupled up with girls that they were taking the dance floor. Tom sauntered up behind Becky, placed a hand on her hip and lightly turned her and continued to dance with her. Sarah stopped, smiled wistfully as she watched the pair. It was a few moments before she realized a hand was on her hip turning her. Startled, she looked at the young man who was now leading her across the floor in a lively strutting dance.

When the dance ended, Jerry put his arm over Sarah's shoulder. "Don't run off, Rabbit. Come and sit down," he suggested knowing Marcy was watching. Tom who had his arm over Becky followed them, and the four of them took seats on the stairs. Jerry looked at Sarah. "Having a good time?"

"Yes, actually;" Sarah said somewhat surprised. "I am."

"Good," the handsome young man leaned back on the stairs behind him. "This is fun."

The girl looked at him, a little confused. "You sound surprised."

"I am," he admitted. "I didn't go to a co-ed school," he explained. "This kind of thing was not part of the curriculum."

"Ah, a private boys school," Sarah said knowing he came from a well to do family, and most likely had gone to the same schools his own father had. "I guess a boy dancing with another boy is not exactly the same as two girl friends dancing together." Sarah mused lightly.

"Not bloody likely," Jerry stood up, and reached for her hand, "I think we should go get some air." He said brazenly. "Don't you, rabbit?"

"Air," Sarah asked as he tugged her behind him while he moved through the crowd toward the door. She franticly looked about. "Won't this upset Liz?"

Jerry paused as they reached the door. "Why should it?"

"Well," Sarah flinched under his scrutiny; "You are seeing her aren't you? I mean… I saw you dancing with her earlier…"

Understanding her dilemma and finding her fears reasonable, he slipped a hand to her waist while softly informing her. "I'm not seeing Liz…she's just a friend…Her father is my father's realtor. She's not my girl."

"Oh," Sarah breathed deeply. "She's not?" She still wore a slightly worried expression.

"I don't have a girl," he growled pulling her closer; "Yet." Turning swiftly before she could find another reason to protest, he pulled her out the door into the cool night air. If she'd expected him to pull her toward the parking lot where a lot of teens were slipping into dark cars, she was disappointed. He led her toward the path that took them to the bleachers and the field. He moved up the bleachers and took a seat. When she sat beside him he pointed to the starry sky. "Look, that's _**Aquila, the Eagle,**_ and over there, is _**Cygnus, the Swan,**_ and that one there… that's _**Pavo, the Peacock.**_"

Sarah looked at him in mild astonishment. "You know all the constellations?" He had not struck her as the kind who would sit gazing at the night sky.

"Every single last one and all of their placements and what seasons they show in." He boasted proudly as he leaned back to look at the sky.

"Every last one?" she challenged not really sure why.

Jerry leaned forward and looked at her with smoldering eyes. "Damn right. Do you doubt me?"

Pursing her lips, she studied him, "I don't know you." The smoldering eyes seemed familiar but Sarah could not place where she'd seen them before.

"Do you want to know me, Sarah?" he asked softly, tempting her with unspoken delights. He placed his hand to her cheek, stroking the creamy skin. "Do you?"

Sarah shivered; this was all too much and all too fast. Something about the way he said her name gave her chills, and felt faintly familiar and frightening. Feeling an overload, Sarah stood up and turned to look back at the school. "I think we should go back." She started to walk down the bleachers.

When the girl was a few steps away he whispered. "To go forward, we must go back. Alright Rabbit, we'll do it your way for a bit…" His voice was amused, but deeper than it had been. He moved a bit quicker and joined her at the bottom of the bleachers. He walked at her side, not even trying to hold her hand, but his presence was clearly being established. He knew the eyes of the night were watching, and by morning it would be a commonly know fact that Sarah Williams and Jerry King were seen leaving the bleachers. What had actually occurred didn't matter; the only thing that mattered was they were seen leaving the bleachers together.

--

Sarah opened her locker, removed her belongings and those belonging to Becky. She locked the door and spun the combination. Turning she noticed Marcy and Laura a short distance away staring at her. Becky came practically dancing down the hall, elated by something and reached for her little jacket and purse that Sarah held out for her. Marcy and Laura were quickly dismissed by both as Becky's overall enthusiasm was infectious.

"That Tom Bradley is one really adorable guy," she said as she took her keys out of her purse. "He asked me to the opening game tomorrow."

"Are you going?" Sarah asked quietly.

"You bet I am," Becky said looking like a cat about to eat a canary. "He's a dreamboat, and he's so bad…"

Sarah still following her shook her head, "And that's a good thing?" Becky's laugh was her answer.

Becky gunned the engine of the red VW; "You bet it is. God how I love Bad Boys," she looked at Sarah wickedly in a long sideways glance. "Don't you?" she challenged.

--

Tom found Jerry King at the parking lot unlocking his car. "Well?"

"Patience, Thomas, patience." Jerry murmured as he slid effortlessly into the driver's seat. "Rome was not built in a day… and it will take more than one little dance to achieve my goal."

Tom slid into the passenger's seat of the TR6. "Well while you're taking your time, I on the other hand am moving forward..." The glamour used to maintain the youthful appearance of an American teen dropped and the Fae's true appearance was visible. Thomas was still Tom, only more mature and masterful. He looked at his companion whose glamour also vanished; "My little red haired vixen is already champing at the bit, and has accepted my invitation to tomorrow's game."

"Step one has been achieved," Cautioned the Fae driving the sporty little car. "And the prey is now sniffing at the bait. But I want more than a mere sniff… I want the trap sprung and the girl ensnared." He began to hum as he drove toward the outskirts of town. "So keep that in mind as you entice and enthrall that pretty little vixen of yours."

"You are one twisted man, my friend." Thomas mused. "How I love when you seek revenge. It's even better when you allow other's to take part…. I love mortals…they are so… accommodating."

--

Sarah waved at the fading tail lights, after Becky had dropped her off and pulled away. She told Sarah she'd call in the morning, so they could make plans. The teen walked up the walkway to the front porch and was stepping up just as her parents' car pulled in the drive. Karen was laughing at some comment her father had made as she stepped from the car. Sarah stood on the porch, waiting for them and giggled when she saw her father sneak up behind and tickle Karen. "Hey, who's the teenager here?" she teased. "You're old married folks… act like it!"

"Did you have a nice time?" Karen asked in a giggling tone, her blue eyes shining like the stars in the sky.

"I had a great time," Sarah said, finding it true amazed her.

"Dance your feet off, did you?" Robert a few steps behind them teased Sarah as he began to shake and fake one of the popular steps.

"Daddy!" Sarah looked around; "Think of the neighbors."

Mrs. Miller, hearing them came to the front door and opened it for the family. "Well, looks like everyone had a lovely time." She commented. "Toby is in bed fast asleep and dreaming wonderful dreams I'm sure." She had her purse in hand and her shawl over her shoulders. "I'll be going home now."

"I'll walk you home," Robert said offering her his arm. "I hate to see a lady walking alone so late at night."

Karen and Sarah watched as the pair strolled down the steps. "He's so gallant," Karen mused. "Off to bed Sarah or you'll have circles under your eyes." She gave her stepdaughter a hug and sent her off to bed.

Sarah sat on her bed brushing her long hair, thinking of the evening's events and of the strange young man with the eyes that felt like they were searching her soul. Sarah moved to her window seat, continued to brush her hear as she looked at the stars that Jerry King seemed to know so well. The fluttering of wings and the cry of a night creature of the air startled her, and she dropped her brush. Frowning, and telling herself it was nothing, Sarah closed the window and turned off her light. There was a tapping at her window, Sarah sat up in her bed and looked at the source of the sounds. She saw the wings of a bird flutter past the window, gathering the bed clothes closer she shook her head refusing to believe it was the same owl who had caused her such problems a year ago. "You have no power over me," she whispered darkly, as if it were the only words that could protect her. A surge of bravado moved through her, she lay back down, turned her back to the window and the night creature and went to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

The next morning was one of those rare and wonderful mornings of the early days in September. The sun was shining, the sky was clear and it was pleasantly warm without being hot and there was an enjoyable breeze. It was the perfect day for any activity open planed. Karen had her grocery list in her hand and was dressed to go shopping when Sarah finally made it down to the kitchen. Robert had left an hour earlier to meet his usual Saturday morning golf buddies for their early tee off time. Toby was in the high chair finishing his cereal and making a royal mess.

"There's the sleepy head," teased Karen as she handed the list to Sarah. "Did I miss anything?"

"Nope," Sarah read it over carefully. "You've got everything."

"If you're going to take Toby to the park, remember to take your keys and lock the house," Karen said as she took the car keys off the wall hook. "And for heaven's sake Sarah, do keep track of the time."

"I will," Sarah promised not really listening as she poured her own cereal into a bowl. She sat down beside her brother and smiled at the boy. "Want to go to the park?" she asked playfully. Toby's response was to wildly clap his hands, nearly upsetting the bowl on his tray. "Easy tiger!" Sarah laughed holding the bowl. "I'm in no mood to clean up the kitchen."

Karen paused at the door, "I could have Mrs. Miller watch him if you wanted to go to the foot ball game, the first game of the season is today isn't it?"

"I'm not into football," Sarah made a face. "Stupid game, bunch of guys on a field chasing about with a pig skin…I'd really rather run about the park with Toby and old Merlin."

"Okay," Karen sighed; "But I did offer."

"Yes you did," Sarah agreed as she waved off her stepmother. "Go, shop, spend money!" Her stepmother laughed merrily as she went out the kitchen door and headed to the little car she drove about town. Sarah waved from the window and went back to eating her cereal.

--

Instead of her usual costume that she wore to the park, Sarah chose to wear a long tan brushed cotton A-line skirt and a peasant blouse with beautiful embroidery flowers at the yoke and on the sleeves. She wore a wide belt that almost looked like an old fashioned waist chinch. She had pulled her hair back, clasping it instead of tying it up in a pony tail and it fell into long tendrils on its own. For their outing, she'd dressed Toby in a brown corduroy romper that had a funny little shield with a two headed eagle on its bib. And a long sleeve linen shirt that looked traditional if out-of-date.

She packed the stroller for a picnic with a little lunch hamper for the two of them with finger foods and fruit and the juice packs Toby could handle. She had a large plaid blanket to spread on the grassy knolls. She also packed a new book of Fairy Tales for her to read to him. There was room left over for her purse which contained her student ID and the house Keys as well as her wallet with a bit of cash to treat Toby to an ice cream later. Locking the door behind her, she leashed Merlin to the stroller without worry. The old dog had little interest in chasing anything more than his own shadow these days, walking beside the stroller was just his pace these days. Happily Sarah knew the park would be almost empty today, as it was the opening day of football season for her school. The school was big on supporting the teams, and most everyone who could would be there. The park was usually pretty quiet on those days, mostly older couples and a few unattached singles would stroll the lanes. Although the glade where the swan pond was would be deserted, it would be perfect for her to let Toby and Merlin romp.

As she expected the glade was empty, and she and Toby and the great hairy beast had the area to themselves. She spread the blanket before getting Toby out of the stroller. Once he was out she let him romp a bit with Merlin as she stood watch making sure he didn't wander too close to the water. She had already once saved him from racing into the pond to play with a swan. His antics, running about and tumbling over the old Sheep dog, gave her the giggles. The little boy, laughing merrily was rolling over the big hairy beast who was barking like a puppy. So intent was she in watching the pair romp that she had not noticed the figure coming toward her. It wasn't until she was startled by the hand stroking her hair that she realized she was not alone. Spinning about she faced the owner of the hand in her long tendrils of silky hair. Automatically she began to back up, but the hand in her hair clamped down, holding her in place.

"Hello Rabbit," he growled in a sinister way. Jerry King locked his fingers in her hair and gave her a cocky smile.

"Why aren't you at the game?" she asked without greeting the young man.

"Do _**I**_ look like a _**jock**_ to you?" He asked with a cocky laugh.

Sarah looked past him to see what Toby and Merlin were doing; as they were still rolling she looked at him sideways and shook her head. "No, that's not the word I'd use for describing you." She tried to sidestepped him to see the little boy and dog more clearly.

"How would you describe me, Rabbit?" He asked at her ear, standing now slightly behind her again, with his hand still knotted in her long hair.

His touch was nearly the most intimate thing that had ever happened to Sarah this side of the Fairy Mists. She could not quite compare it to the dance she'd shared with a Fae King in a dreamy ball room, but it was close. "Dangerous," she said before she could stop herself. "Like a fox in a hen house."

"Something tells me you rather like foxes, Rabbit." He teased still holding her hair but relaxing his grip.

"Why do you keep call me that? It's not my name, and it's not my nick name." She stiffened her stance, crossed her arms and watched Toby romp.

"I don't happen to like the nick name other's are calling you," he stated strongly. "You have one you know."

Sarah felt her face fall; she knew what others called her, 'Ice Princess.' "Yes," she said with hurt in her voice. "I know what they call me."

The long fingers stroked her hair once more, slowly, intensely, in long deliberate strokes. "That does not fit with the girl _**I see**_," he informed her. "I don't see _**ice**_, I see something else entirely."

Sarah contemplated ignoring him; after all she was supposed to be watching Toby. However something about Jerry King refused to be ignored. "That does not explain why you insist on calling me Rabbit." She looked at him side ways taking her eyes off the pair rolling in the grass for only a moment before she looked back at her dog and brother.

"Maybe it's because you skitter off like a rabbit every time I see you…" he teased as he bent to speak in her ear. "Or perhaps it's only because you've a very cute little tail."

Sarah gasped, shocked at his overt pass. "I beg your pardon?"

He released his grip on her hair and stepped back eyeing her bottom appreciatively; "Oh yes, a very cute little tail." He laughed wickedly as she spun so her back side was no longer in his view. "Oh Rabbit," he said holding his sides as he laughed.

"Stop that," she warned before walking away from him and moving toward the little boy who was now lying on the ground with the dog panting. "Go away, I'm busy, can't you see that?"

"Ah, and who is this _**fine fellow**_ who has all your attention?" Jerry asked following her to the green where Toby lay on the ground giggling maddeningly until Jerry had spoken. Hearing the voice Toby sat up at attention and suddenly ran to the stranger and held out his hands.

"Uppie!" the little boy cried out. "Uppie, uppie, uppie!"

Jerry smiled down and lifted the boy up, "Hello you." He said in a soft friendly manner.

Sarah noticed the strange way Merlin reacted; he was crouching down and growling at Jerry. Turning to Jerry she held her hands out for her brother. "I think you'd better give him to me." She was sure the great hairy hound was about to show aggression, something he rarely did.

Instead the young man looked at the dog and sharply ordered. "Sit!" Instantly the dog obeyed, leaving Sarah gawking with an open mouth. "You were saying Rabbit?"

"What did you do to my dog?" she asked as she turned to see Toby snuggling into the arms of the stranger holding him. "He never does that," Sarah said inaudibly. "Do you have younger brothers or sisters?" Little alarms were beginning to go off.

"No," he said cuddling the little boy. "I'm a spoiled only child, my mother's pride and joy." He gazed at her through a thick line of double lashes. "What's his name?"

"Toby… Tobias Sebastian Williams actually," she answered carefully. "Jerry I really think you should let me have him now."

Jerry looked at her, cocking one eyebrow up slightly. "Do you?" He moved with the little boy to the spread blanket and took a seat beside the tree the blanket was spread under. "Why? Afraid I'll run off with him?"

'Don't be silly,' she thought to herself; 'he's just holding Toby, in plain sight!' She followed them to the edge of the blanket just as Merlin crawled his way over and sat glaring. "Because I don't really know you," she said forcefully.

Jerry nodded as he held the little boy in his lap on the blanket. "That's true Rabbit, you don't know me."

"Stop calling me that!" She stomped one foot.

Jerry settled with his back against the tree Sarah had set the blanket under. "Oh do sit down before you upset the baby," he said losing a bit of patience with her. Her mouth dropped, and then snapped shut as she dropped to her knees on the blanket. "That's better," he said looking over Toby's head at her. "Now, how in the world are you going to get to know me; if you keep running away from me…Rabbit?"

Sarah didn't know if she liked the way he kept looking at her or not. It gave her the feeling that he knew what she looked like without her clothes on. "What makes you think I want to get to know you?"

"Don't you like boys Rabbit?" he teased.

"Of course I like boys, what kind of question is that?" she protested.

"I wondered," he shrugged. "I mean I get told you're some kind of Ice Princess, and you keep trying to escape me…."

"I'm not an Ice Princess!" her voice became more shrill than she'd wanted it to and she turned her face away fearful of the tears that were now stinging to be freed.

"So, why is it all my new mates here think you are?" He asked leaning back and watching her. "Todd Green tells me you don't date anyone."

Sarah looked at the swans swimming in the pond. "I hate gossips," she whispered. "Small towns like this are full of them, and Todd is the worst of gossips."

"Do you date?" He asked directly.

Sarah turned to look at him, about to lie she paused. "No."

"Because?"

"It's complicated," she retorted trying to cover her lack of answer.

"Life is complicated, Rabbit;" he argued gently. "Todd tells me lots of guys have asked you out, and you say no ever time… in fact he was surprised you dance with me last night."

"OH I don't want to have this conversation," she groaned.

"So, what's the answer?" He persisted.

Sarah sighed and looked at him for a long moment; "Have you ever heard of Linda Williams?" He shook his head no; she thought about it and chose her words carefully. "Linda Williams is my mother, she and my father divorced when I was ten so she could pursue her career as an actress…" She looked away, bit her lower lip and went on. "This is a small town… and the gossips ran wild… and then the climbers started… girls and boys wanting to be my friend because my mother was famous and worked with even more famous people… Look by the time I was fourteen I was fed up with it… it was easier to be alone than to take chances."

"Reasonable," he agreed; "Lonely but reasonable." His tone was compassionate and comforting. "So you let all the guys think you're some kind of stuck up spoiled little princess just to protect yourself."

"More or less," her words were icy.

"That's pitiful." He stated suddenly, adding; "And over."

Toby interrupted what was going to be an argument on Sarah's part; "Cookie!"

"No," Sarah said.

"Cookie!" the little boy pouted.

Jerry snickered. "Obstinate, isn't he?"

"It's time for his lunch," Sarah stood up and moved to the stroller and returned with the hamper of food. "I always pack a lunch for our park outings." She opened the hamper took out a container with cheese sticks and handed one to her brother.

"Do you come here often?" Jerry asked as the babe in his arms munched happily on the cheese.

"Often enough," she nodded. "Toby and I have been coming here to the park on good weather Saturday's for a year now… he built his first snowman next to that obelisk there," she pointed, when she looked back she felt self-conscious. She held out a cheese stick to the young man. "Cheese?"

Jerry took the stick and smiled. "Thank you."

Taking a stick for herself she noticed the dog was now crouched low to the ground, and right beside her. She slipped a piece of cheese to him and looked at the pond, composing herself she opened the hamper again and took out a container with grapes and opened it. "Grapes?" Both Toby and Jerry reached their hands in, causing Sarah to smile.

"You should do that more often, Rabbit," Jerry said quietly, with a content look on his face.

"Do what?" She asked.

"Smile."

--

Sarah tried time and again to send the young man away. Time and again he refused, and by the afternoon's end he held the sleeping Toby in his arms and even the reluctant Merlin had seemed to accept him. The dog had curled up beside Jerry when Sarah pulled out the story book to read to Toby. Jerry carried the sleeping boy to the stroller and placed him in without awakening him, while Sarah folded up the blanket and smoothed it under the seat where it was stored. The hamper was back in the carrier and she made sure no litter was left behind.

"Well, I cannot offer you a ride home; I don't have a baby seat in the car…" Jerry said teasingly.

"That's alright, I'm use to walking." She assured him as she put Merlin back on the leash attached to the stroller.

"See you in school, Rabbit." He winked as he turned to stroll off toward one of the parking lots.

"Yeah," Sarah turned the stroller and headed home.

--

Karen and her father were both sitting on the front porch when they arrived home. They waved at her as they sipped tall glasses of iced tea. "Would you like a glass of tea, Sarah?" Karen offered as she pulled the stroller to the stair.

Taking a seat on the porch and looking at her sleeping brother, she nodded. "I'd love one."

"Did you have a nice day in the park?" Karen handed her the glass of icy beverage.

"Yes, thank you… we ran into a boy from school." Sarah sipped the tea.

"Who?" Robert asked mildly interested.

"A new boy, his parents are leasing the old Winston estate… his name is Jerry King." Sarah said honestly.

"Is he nice?" Karen asked.

Sarah gave it some thought before she answered. "I'm really not sure… I think he can be when he wants to be… he was really good with Toby… but…"

Robert looked concerned; "But what, honey?"

"I don't know," she confessed looking at the sleeping baby in the stroller. "There's just something sort of dangerous about him… but I doubt he'd be really interested in me… He's a senior." Sarah offered to take Toby up to his room but her father told her to leave him be, as they would be staying on the porch until dinner was ready and they would bring him in then.

--

Jerry pulled the TR6 into the lot of the local hamburger hang out, a place off the main track called Bud's. It was the place all the cool guys hung with their cars. As soon as he'd parked a crowd formed about the little car. The top was down and he sat back waiting for the car hop to come out and take his order. Girls working hard at getting picked up for the night, looked at him and his car with simpering grins. His scowl told them they were barking up the wrong tree. He looked at the crowd and noticed Tom coming toward him from the inside of the hamburger stand.

Leaning on the side of the car Tom looked at him with a wide grin. "So?"

"Like stealing candy from a baby," the driver of the TR6 joked.

"You dog," Tom quipped lifting his soft drink to the other.

Jerry saw David sulking at the far end of the row of cars and said to Tom. "Get Merck over here, I want a word with him."

"Sure," he pushed off the car and walked down to the last car in the row where David was standing. "David, Jerry would like to have a word with you."

David nodded, and moved toward the TR6 slowly. "Yes?"

King leaned back in his seat, "David I don't want your girl." He said flatly. "I don't care what she wants; I've got my own little rabbit to chase."

If David was supposed to be relived it didn't happen. "You don't know Marcy," he warned. "She's like a junk yard dog with a bone…and no offense Jer, but you're the bone she wants right now."

"She must learn to live with disappointment." Jerry stated in a caviler tone. "I'm saving my bone for someone else."

"She won't like that," David stated.

"Tough shit," Tom sighed.

David looked at Jerry, "I'd be more worried about what she could do to that rabbit you're chasing." His voice had gone still and worried. "Look, Jer, I really don't want to see Marcy hurt anyone… and I don't want her hurt by you."

"Then find a way to see to it she does not interfere in my plans." Jerry counseled.

"Easier said than done, it would be far easier to allow her to push your rabbit into your snare…" David complained.

Jerry sat up; both he and Tom were now looking at the other boy with mutual looks of an idea being formed. "May be that's what we should do then… let the bitch chase the rabbit into the foxes den."

"Brilliant," Tom said clapping his hands loudly, an eager smile on his lips.

David looked uneasy. "You want to use Marcy to trap Sarah?" When both Tom and Jerry nodded, David shook his head. "OH not a good idea."

"It's a great idea," Tom said slapping David on the back. "I couldn't have come up with a more brilliant suggestion."

David shook his head adamantly now. "No, don't even go there Jerry… Hell hath no fury…"

"Marcy will be taken care of," Jerry promised. "Here's the plan… my folks are going away for the entire weekend of Halloween… I say we have a house party."

"Orgy," Tom growled darkly.

"We'll have the house to ourselves, and no one to tell us what to do." Jerry promised, before looking at David. "And you can take Marcy to any bedroom in the house you want to after she chases my rabbit into my den."

"You're insane." David groaned.

Jerry snickered. "Let's set up our core guest list."

"Core?" David questioned.

"He's planning on the usual crashers," Tom explained waving down a car hop to take another drink order.

--


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

Sarah was on the porch when Becky pulled up Monday morning. "How was the game?"

"We lost," gripped the driver of the little red VW. "Sixteen to three," she shook her head. "It was a massacre."

Sarah changed the subject, "I ran into Jerry King Saturday… I'd have thought he'd be at the game with you and Tom. I mean every time I've seen him he's been with Tom."

"Tom said Jerry being a Brit is not into American football, he prefers soccer." Becky answered without problems. "But I had a grand time with Tom, and he asked me out again next weekend. We're going to the last concert in the park on Friday night." She looked over at Sarah. "Want to come along?"

"On your date?" Sarah made a sour face; "NO, thanks."

Becky laughed until she had tears in her big hazel eyes. "No stupid," she laughed as she spoke, "I meant on a double date… me with Tom, you with Jerry King."

"I doubt Jerry King would be agreeable to that," Sarah said all too quickly.

"That's funny he said the same thing about you when Tom suggested it yesterday." Becky teased.

"What did he say?" Sarah barked loudly. "You saw Jerry yesterday? Where?"

Becky looked like a cat that just finished a bowl of cream. "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased.

"Becky, don't make me beg!" Sarah sunk into the seat and groaned, knowing she'd been caught it the web of her own lie. "Okay, I give up… What did Jerry say?"

"He told Tom he thinks you're as cute as a bunny…" teased the girl with red hair. "And I was standing right there when he said it. We ran into him at the mall, I met Tom there at the food court."

"Oh God," wailed Sarah loudly. "I wish he'd cut out the Rabbit inferences."

"OH come on, it's cute," cooed the Red haired girl; "Anyway he said he'd go if you would…so how about it?"

"I don't know," Sarah shook her head. "How do I explain it to my folks?"

"What, they think you're going to a convent school?" Becky joked.

The other girl squirmed. "I've never… been…on a date…" she began to wave her hands about trying to explain.

Becky slammed on the brakes and nearly put her passenger through the windshield. "Come again?" She stared at Sarah. "Are you shitting me?"

Uncomfortable and feeling at odds, Sarah shook her head. "No."

Becky put the car back into gear, "I see…. Well… maybe it's time you started."

Sarah moaned and winced. "Couldn't I start out with someone a bit tamer?"

"No," Becky said determined. "You can't."

--

Sarah entered the house after school on Monday to find Mrs. Miller teaching Karen to do lace with lace needles. Sarah was constantly amazed at both older women's talents. "Hi," she greeted both women.

"Hello dear," Karen said looking up then back at the needles to prevent puncturing her own fingers. "How was your day?"

"Jam-packed," Sarah slumped into a chair. "Karen… I've been asked to a concert on Friday… may I go?"

"What concert," Karen asked holding her needle still.

"The last one in the park series," Sarah said.

Mrs. Miller noted the girls slumping body and commented. "You don't look too happy about this…."

"It's a double date," Sarah said nervously; "My first."

Karen smiled, "I'm sure it would be fine, who are you going with?"

"Becky and Tom… and Jerry," Sarah muttered making her voice very small.

"Jerry… the boy you met in the park last Saturday?" Karen was now wearing a glowing smile. "Well, well. I'm sure it would be fine… but they have to come here to pick you up and we have to meet the young man." She returned to the lace needle work.

"Oh," Sarah groaned. "Do you have to?" When Karen nodded without looking at her stepdaughter, the girl stood up and growled. "Alright, I'll tell them to come here and pick me up so you can meet the him…if you really have to." She got up out of her chair and muttered her way toward the kitchen. "Don't see why I can't just meet them at the park… it's not that far…"

Mrs. Miller snickered as Sarah headed to the Kitchen. "How quickly they grow up."

"Not always," Karen said softly. "Not always."

--

Becky found Sarah waiting for her at the curb then next morning, "I'm surprised you're so eager to get to school," the red haired girl quipped.

"I'm not, but it was stand here, or talk to them about Jerry…" Sarah slammed the door of the car harder than intended and winced as it thudded. "Sorry."

"Parents doing the third degree?" Becky laughed at the other's misery.

Sarah glared, "I don't find it funny."

This only added to Becky's mirth. "You wouldn't." she giggled. "But it is funny."

Sarah looked at Becky and sighed. "Tell me that after Friday night, they are insisting you all pick me up so they can meet the boy."

Becky shrugged. "We planned on picking you up last; the boys are coming to pick me up, and then you." She didn't seem as phased by the events unfolding, not nearly as phased as poor Sarah. "Don't worry, I'll bet Jerry charms them both."

"Just what I need," Sarah muttered.

--

The study hall was filling up, and there was only one minute before the bell. Sarah had not seen neither hide nor hair of the Bad Boys, and hoped that one or all were off doing some assignment in the library. However, just as the bell rang, the six strutted into the classroom and took seats. Sarah watched as they made their presences known. Just as she was about to look down at her books, the gaze of the leader met with hers. He winked at her and she swallowed the lump gathering in her throat.

The roll was taken and the gym teacher sitting behind her on the dais where the desk was raised so he could keep an eye, began to converse with a couple of the jocks. Mr. Craig allowed movement and conversations, in fact he encouraged them. So it was not surprising that after the roll was taken there was movement. Sarah, not being a member of any of the usual groupings in the room, opened her text book and began to go over the history assignment. She had not noticed Jerry chase off the student in front of her, nor had she seen him sit backward on the seat, and place his chin on the back of the chair. It was the feeling of being stared at that alerted her that something was going on. Looking up she heard her own startled gasp, and everyone around her heard it as well.

"Hello, Rabbit," he greeted her lazily; he bought up his head, and smiled. "I wondered if you were going to take that cute little nose out of the book long enough to notice I was here."

"You're a little hard to miss," she answered back; she had not meant to sound as hostile as the retort appeared to sound. Other students sacred at her in shock, including some of the jocks; she'd heard someone proclaim her a bitch and she wished she could take it back.

Jerry on the other hand had not been fazed at all, "I hear you accepted the idea of the date." He made sure his voice was loud enough that one and all knew the girl was going to be going out with him.

Sarah nodded, not trusting her voice at this point, but she noticed the usual gossips beginning to churn the rumor mill.

If the English boy noticed, he paid little heed. "What are you reading?" he asked changing the subject.

"History assignment," she answered and turned the book for him to see. "Becky and I are study partners, and we both want to be prepared for this morning."

"You like history?" he asked handing her back the book.

"Yes," she answered quietly prepared for a smart assed remark, she got them so often for her likes and dislikes.

His chin went back to the back of the chair. "So do I," he announced. He began to speak with a sly smirk. "Those who do not heed are doomed to repeat."

"So I've heard," she looked at him and cocked her head to one side, eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" She heard the gasps around her and knew she'd been indiscreet in her inquiry, and bit down on her lower lip.

"Oh the usual," he teased ignoring the gasps and gaping stares. 'Love me, fear me, do as I say…' he thought to himself. "What do you want?" He asked in return.

Quite amused, and taken aback she giggled, it was enough to break the tensions forming in the room. "I want to finish my reading so I'm ready for class."

"Am I distracting you?" he asked with a twinkle in the blue eyes that looked as if they knew full well the answer already.

"Yes Jerry, you are." She smiled. "Now be nice and let me read."

"Read to me, it will make the information stick better in your mind." He sat up and gave her his full attention.

"Are you kidding?" she asked looking around. "We're not creating enough drama here?"

He tapped the book, "I said read," he commanded.

"Fine," she sighed, reading the chapter out loud, and pausing only when he would make comments. When she'd finished the chapter she looked up to find him sitting across from her with his eyes closed and a look of utter contempt on his face.

"Who writes this rubbish?" He took the book from her trembling hands, looking for the author of the history. "This is unacceptable." He was leafing through the pages.

"It's the accepted history course they teach here," Sarah whispered urgently.

"Well it's wrong, full of misinformation and outright lies." He challenged.

The coach, seated behind Sarah, looked at the pair. "What's full of misinformation?" He asked.

Jerry ignoring the girl's protests took the book, handed it to the instructor who leafed through it as well. "This is what they teach here?"

"History books are full of mistakes, Mr. King… Williams is stuck with what the course requires, not the truth." Coach said sadly. "If she wants the truth, she'll have to track it down on her own."

"But that's…" Jerry protested hotly. "That's draconian thinking."

"Yep," the coach agreed.

Jerry looked at the girl, sitting quietly, looking miserable. "Rabbit, is this true? This is all you know?"

Sarah looked at the young man, now standing with the sunlight blazing on him from the windows behind the coach. Something about him stood out, and she blinked rapidly. It was as if she were seeing an aura about him. She raised a hand to shade her eyes and the effect ceased. "My father says that history is objective…. It's written by the victors…" She shrugged. "I only know that this is the book I have to work from… do I trust that this is the unvarnished truth…no. But this is what I have to work from."

Jerry crouched down and looked at her with a troubled gaze. "But it's not the truth."

"Truth won't get me through the course with a passing grade," she countered.

"So you're going to settle?" He challenged.

"No," she said. "But I'll keep what I do to my self."

He gave her answer a moment's thought and nodded. "Fair enough;" He stood up, handed her back her text book; "Fair enough."

--

Tom found Jerry at days end sitting in the TR6 looking troubled. "You look upset," he observed. "Is there a problem?"

"Do you know what they teach here?" Jerry asked tapping his chin, contemplating all he'd learned earlier.

"In which subject; remember you've had me stationed here for a year." Tom took a seat in the car and looked at his friend in earnest.

"The history they teach the Junior Class," Jerry sighed.

"Oh, that, well what about it?" Tom asked.

Jerry frowned, "Oh that?"

Tom cleared his throat, and looked unfazed. "As I said, you've had me stationed here for a year. I'm over the cultural shocks."

Jerry started the engine, "I wish you'd told me so of what I'd be facing."

"Would it have deterred you?" Tom challenged. "As I recall you were madder than a wet hen a year ago, and all you cared about was setting up the cover identities. Back then you wanted revenge, has that changed?"

"No," Jerry said pulling out of the lot and into traffic. "It has not."

Tom stretched, and allowed his glamour to drop once they were away from the high school. He was still Tom, but now he was a more mature looking version of the handsome young man. After cracking the creak in his neck he gazed at his friend once more. "Last year, after that girl snubbed you, you wanted to put her in her place. Do you still wish that?"

"More than ever," Jerry admitted as he too dropped the glamour. In the place of the handsome young English man sat the handsome Goblin King.

"Well then," Tom quipped. "Why worry about the muddled history they teach? It does not pertain to your squabble with the girl." He wondered if his friend were going soft. "She did insult you, if you recall."

"I remember every word, every gesture, every breath," growled the irritated young King.

Tom smirked; "Of course you do. I imagine you replay them in one of those crystals you're so damned fond of, don't you?"

Jareth sniffed defensively. "What if I do?"

Tom looked at the house just past the gated drive way they were entering. "Ah, home sweet home….away from home."

"A man has to have a place to live," the King claimed as he exited the car. He too looked at the house. "A home should say something about the person living there."

Tom snickered. "You'd better hop your old man does not get wind of what you've done." He warned. "Using his contacts to set up this elaborate ruse, he'll have a fit."

"Well I couldn't just show up without some kind of cover." Jareth said as they entered the house that was staffed with goblins and elves and other creatures of the Labyrinth. "Besides, he's got so many of these little safe houses he'll never notice one more."

"You'd better hope he doesn't." Tom cautioned, looking about the Winston house. "This is a bit more elaborate than you gave me… and what if someone at the school wishes to speak to your parents…at least I've got fakes in place."

"You are supposed to be a Yank," Jareth dropped down into a chair, crooking his one leg over the arm. "And if I need a parent, I'll manufacture one." He too stretched, needing to be in his own skin for a bit.

"You know her parents wish to meet you," Tom took a seat casually as well. "Are you ready for that?"

"I'll dazzle them," Jareth promised.

"Sure you will," Tom relaxed.

--

Several times during the week she'd been tempted to call the "date" off. She'd heard the rumors, and whispers going about. She'd seen the looks some of the girls were giving her. They ranged from envious to disgusted, that one belonging to Marcy who she was glad was not in any of her courses. When Friday arrived, she knew she was the subject of more gossips and rumors than she'd ever been the subject of before. It was only because Becky was so excited that she even kept her fears to herself. She was glad that she had a few hours after school to get ready and that it was not a dinner date, for she was sure she'd never be able to get down even one swallow.

She had a light meal when she arrived home, and went up to her room to prepare of the date. Standing, staring at her own reflection Sarah wondered why she'd chosen the dress she had; when jeans and a poet shirt would make more sense. She ripped off the pretty dress, rummaged through her closest for her jeans and a pair of low heals. She looked at her poet shirt and smiled, it held great memories of bravery and success. She gingerly fingered the pretty pendant broach on the brocade vest and placed it too on the bed. This time she didn't wear the shirt loose, but fastened a wide leather belt as her waist. She pulled her hair up with a scrunchie, and proceeded to apply a light bit of makeup. Muttering to her-self all the while that this was crazy, she should have told Becky no way, and she should never have agreed with Karen to have everyone come to the house to pick her up. She was still fussing with her makeup when the bell to the front door was rung. She paused and took a deep breath.

"Sarah, your friends are here dear," Karen's voice called up.

"I'll be right there," she called back. Taking one final look she was satisfied she didn't look like she was too anxious about this double date. The clothes were casual, and comfortable, after all they were going to be sitting on the green in the park. It was not like going to a concert hall. She tied her little pouch purse to her belt loop and grabbed the long shawl that her mother had sent her as a memento of a film she'd done. Coming down the stairs she found her father grilling the young man she was parried with for the evening.

"How long do your parents intend to be here in the states?" Robert asked holding his pipe so it looked like he was authoritative.

"I'm not sure," Jerry said standing very relaxed, and looking very casual in his jeans and dark blue shirt with a camel colored jacket. "I leave those things up to them; I just go where I'm told to."

"Travel much?" Robert asked.

"Oh my yes, my father has business concerns all over the world." Jerry said light hearted.

Sarah stood on the stairs listening, realizing there was very little she herself knew about her "date". She smiled when he looked over at her. "Hi," she said quietly.

Jerry looked at her outfit and thought to himself, 'little minx, dressed very nearly as you did the first time we crossed swords. Touché,' But aloud he said. "Hi," he winked at her, knowing it would undermine and unnerve her. She shivered but only he noticed.

Robert smiled at them as they headed to the door, "Not too late, Sarah." He cautioned. Once the kids were out the door, he turned to his wife; "Don't you think that King boy is a bit too old for Sarah?"

"Too old, he's what, seventeen?" Karen teased, as she went to the kitchen to get his evening cup of coffee.

"That boy is over eighteen or I'm a monkey's uncle." Robert shoved his pipe into his mouth and gritted his teeth. He moved quickly to the porch before the group had pulled out. He called out and Jerry turned. "How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen; I'll be nineteen on Halloween." He called back. "Is that a problem?"

Robert gave him a stern expression. "Not unless you make it one," he warned before going back inside.

Jerry King smiled at the back of the man, schooled his face before he slid into the back seat of the car beside the girl with green eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

The crowd was already substantial in the park, the bench seats were already taken by the time the four teens arrived. Not that they would have chosen to sit on the hard benches with the older crowd. Not when there were wonderful grassy knolls available to the younger crowd who gathered for the last concert.

Tom, driving a sedan instead of the mustang he was so proud of, pulled into the lot that was nearly full. He and Becky held hands as they walked the path to the knolls taking seats high up on the sloping hillside that overlooked the stage where the concert was going to be played. Sarah walked at Jerry's side. He had seen in the car that she was not actually open to the idea of holding hands. In fact right now she didn't seem to be open to very much of anything.

Jerry sat down beside Sarah when she took her seat on the grassy hillside. He looked about, seeing the town's élite and not so élite gathering in the open space for the free concert. Turning to look at his 'date', he commented to her. "You look nice, that's a very pretty vest."

"Thank you," she whispered looking down at her vest. "I'm rather fond of this old vest."

He looked about and sighed. "Looks like a good crowd, I must say I'm surprised."

The hint of haughtiness in his tone drew a quizzical glance from the girl. "Why?"

"Well," he said trying to sound thoughtful; "Small towns are not renowned for being so involved, or for having musical programs that are worth flocking to."

"Rubbish," she shot back. "What about the music camp at Aspen… or the Interlochen Center for the Arts? I've a cousin in Muskegon and she's always raving about her town's outdoor concerts in the park. Who says small towns aren't involved?"

Amused and encouraged, Jerry gave her an apologetic grin. "My mistake," he quipped. "Pax?" He offered her hand; actually he more challenged her to accept it.

She looked at the hand with suspicion, after a moment's hesitation, accepting it and repeated; "Pax."

The conductor, a member of the High School music department staff, came toward the gazebo where the members of the orchestra were already assembled. He greeted the audience as if they were guests in his home. Having given a small explanation of the first movements they were going to perform, he turned and raised his baton.

"He's good," Jerry said leaning toward Sarah. "I've seen few better."

"That's Mr. Chambers from the High School music department," Sarah gave him a sideways glance; he was rapt with the music. Totally captivated and immersed in the pleasure of wonderful music being played by musicians who obviously loved their craft. She could not help smile at the look of total pleasure that was on Jerry's face. For a moment he didn't look so troublesome, he looked handsome and strangely content. She felt the heat that suddenly flooded her cheeks as she quickly turned her head away from him. She prayed he had not noticed that he had been too wrapped up in the music to notice her stare and then blush.

Jerry had noticed, but decided it would be to his benefit to ignore her dropped defenses for that moment. He mused to himself; this was still the same silly little mortal girl he'd taken for granted, and underestimated. Those underestimations had cost him, dearly. Now he was going to be far more careful in how he played her. She was tempted, but fighting it and Jerry had witnessed first had in his guise of Goblin King just how formidably Sarah could fight attraction. He had seen her look temptation in the eye only to watch her pull away and run. Yet she had agreed to this double date, and if nothing else, it was progress. Soon he'd allow Mother Nature to help him, that and the troublesome Marcy. He relaxed, and listened to the music.

Tom slid a hand up Becky's back, she leaned her head, placing it on his shoulder. "Enjoying ?" he asked quietly, not wishing to disturb the others around them on the hillside.

"I always enjoy good music," she murmured back; "You?"

"Yes," he said softly. Snuggling into his shoulder she smiled, listening to the music that drifted up the hillside.

--

The musical program ended at ten thirty to a standing ovation. Even the young crowd in the surrounding knolls were standing and applauding wildly. Some called out for the conductor to take another bow, others just hooted and howled their approval of the evening's program. The crowds began to mill about on the hillside and below before departing, Tom suggested a little walk to wait until the parking lot was a bit less congested. He took Becky's hand and playfully pulled her down the path that went the opposite direction of the crowds. Jerry and Sarah followed slowly, side by side. Tom had Becky giggling at some comment.

Jerry reached out and placed a hand at Sarah's wrist. "Give them some space, shall we?"

Sarah halted her steps, looking down at the hand at her wrist, wondering why this guy bothered her so much. She looked up at his face, "I think we should keep up with them."

"Come on Rabbit, Tom deserves a little time with his lady." Jerry challenged.

Little flames started to appear in the very heart of her green eyes. "I think Becky has no idea of how bad Tom can be." She snapped back. "I don't want him pulling anything with my friend."

"Friend?" Jerry's voice dropped low, how he detested that abhorrent word. It had been the word that had been on the dwarf's lips when he tried to refuse a direct order from his King. Just hearing this girl say it made him want to throttle her.

"That's right," she took a firm stance, placing her hands to her hipline. "Becky is my friend, and I'll be damned if I'll let you or Tom hurt her."

"I have no desire to hurt Becky," Jerry began to circle the girl who was projecting a samurai's bravado. "Why should I want to harm a nice girl like that? And what makes you think Tom would do anything to hurt her?"

"I don't trust either one of you," Sarah growled at the fox circling her. "Call it woman's intuition."

Jerry stopped circling, his eyes burning like smoldering coals; "Woman?" The word drew a darker response than he'd expected. "Are you a woman? Or just a noisy little girl, play acting the part of a woman."

Challenged and feeling the need to strike out, Sarah growled at him. "I'm more woman than you'd know how to handle, Mr. Jerry King… I've taken on bigger and better than you." Turning on her heel she began to move in the direction that Tom had taken Becky. A vice grip hand grabbed her wrist, spun her round and dragged her back.

"Big claims, Rabbit," he teased as he held her back from following Tom and Becky. "I wonder if your_** friend**_ would appreciate your efforts." He pointed to where the other couple stood under a tree that was just beginning to turn colors and lose leaves. Becky looked happy as Tom bent to kiss her softly. "She doesn't look like she's in danger to me."

"Some things are not as they appear," Sarah said wisely, but restrained herself from rushing to where Becky stood now returning the kisses Tom was showering on her.

Jerry whispered in her ear. "That could be us, Rabbit."

"In your dreams," she snapped and began walking again.

"Not for long," he mused as he followed.

--

Becky blushed slightly as the other couple approached. "Tom, we really do have to get home," she said with regrets. "My folks are only so understanding…"

Tom nodded stepping back, "I see the crowd has thinned," he commented before looking at Jerry. "Did you enjoy the concert? I'm sure having traveled all of Europe you're used to something a bit fancier." He tucked Becky into his arm and headed toward the car lot.

"Actually I found it very good," Jerry said from a few paces behind. "And Sarah here has explained to me that I really don't know much about small towns."

Sarah bit down on her lower lip, fighting the urge to snap on him.

"You have a problem with small towns?" Becky looked back at the young foreigner.

"No," he mused. "I've a misconception." He lightly joked; keeping things friendly. "I was under the mistaken impression that small towns were not seats of culture. Sarah has straightened me out."

Tom looked at Sarah when they arrived at the car, "I hope you had a nice time too, Sarah."

"I love hearing Mr. Chambers conduct," Sarah said softly. "It's going to be a sad day when he retires."

Tom agreed. "He's been a mainstay, and he really knows how to draw the best performances from one." He held the door open for Becky, just as Jerry opened the back door for Sarah.

--

Tom drove toward the end of town where Sarah's house was located, he and Becky carried on a hushed conversation in the front seat. Jerry sat looking at the girl seated beside him; she was wearing a pensive look. She remained very quiet all the way to her house. When they reached her home, it was Jerry who opened the door and helped her out of the car.

"Good night Tom, Becky… I had a wonderful time, thank you for thinking to ask me along." She turned to say good night to the English boy when he took hold of her arm. "You don't have to see me to my door," she said in a confrontational tone.

"Of course I do," Jerry countered completely at ease. "Unless they do things differently here in the States, a gentleman escorts his date to her door…he does not just drop her off at the curb like a sack of rubbish."

Knowing she could not argue his logic, Sarah sighed, gave into reason and common sense. She walked with him toward the front porch of the Victorian house. Reaching the porch she figured on giving him the brush off and rushing into the house. She was surprised to find that he stepped up onto the porch along side her. "What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Under the guise of saying good night to my date," he explained to her as if she'd become an instant moron; "I'm giving Tom a few moments alone with his very pretty girlfriend." Jerry took her elbow, leading her toward the darker side of the porch. "This was a date, you know." His fingers were firm without being hurtful. "It's expected that I see you to your door and try to get a goodnight kiss."

Sarah went stiff, her entire body locked up. "A what?"

Jerry smiled softly, yet his eyes looked more like those of a bird of prey than a school boy. "A kiss Sarah, you've heard of them, haven't you? Also known as a lip sandwich," he teased. "So what say you pucker up and give me a big old wet one?"

"What say I give you a fat lip?" She placed her hand flat against his chest to halt his onslaught.

Jerry looked down at the hand, smiled before he looked back at her. "I'm not leaving this porch until you kiss me good night."

"Then you'll be standing out here, alone, all night long." Sarah said with determination. Turning she planned on heading to the front door and the safety of her foyer. Before she could take step one, he had placed his arms about her, imprisoning her in a tender embrace. His lips were at her ear and he was breathing softly. "Let me go." She whispered urgently. "I'll scream."

"No you won't," he said confidently.

Sarah shivered, the sound of his voice at her ear tickled and thrilled and sent her blood coursing through her veins. "I mean it, Jerry… I'll….scream."

His embrace became solid, yet remained tender. "I don't think you want to do that, do you Rabbit?" He felt her breathing shift, and the heat rise that would flood color into her pretty cheeks. "It's but one kiss, Rabbit… that's all." She shivered again and gave a nearly inaudible whimper. He didn't press; on the contrary, he became conciliatory. "Rabbit, you've never done this before, have you?" She shook her head, but remained silent. He closed his eyes, and mused to himself that she was still such a little girl. "I promise, it won't hurt," he said as he opened his eyes, gently turned her and lifted her chin to give him access to her sweet lips. "One kiss and I'll go… I promise." Gently he placed his lips down on hers, brushing against hers and keeping the moment soothing. She stiffened slightly at first, but the heat that the kiss ignited in her was not long in denial. Her hands found his hips, her fingers clung to him as her lips began to respond to the pressure and pleasure. He pulled back, thinking of something smart to say, but she looked at him with willing eyes. He enfolded her once more and lowered his face to hers. 'Child she maybe, but by the Gods I've never had so moving a kiss.' He thought to himself as he deepened the kiss. He pulled back, "Keep that up and I'll be here all night," he warned cupping her face in his hands. "Good night, Rabbit."

"Good night," she whispered contentedly. Sarah moved to the door, turning to watch him stroll down the sidewalk to his friend's car. Entering the house, she was glad her father and stepmother didn't seem inclined to conversation. The only thing she wanted to do was to escape to her room.

--

Tom returned to the car after having taken Becky to her door, he looked far too pleased with himself for Jareth's liking. "Must you gloat?"

"What can I say, old friend… I'm irresistible." Tom headed the car toward the estate house that was now the Fae hide out. "How is your plan progressing?"

"Slowly," Jareth murmured thinking of the kiss on the Williams front porch. "I forget sometimes how really young Sarah is… she's so bold and brazen, and yet so… innocent… damn her eyes."

Tom snickered at his friends dilemma; "Having second thoughts are you?"

"Second, third… one millionth…" Jareth let the glamour drop, he began to sulk. "If it were not for the fact that she rejected me outright…."

"But she did reject you," Tom also allowed the glamour to drop, as he took his hands off the steering wheel, allowing the car to be driven by an unseen force. "She also cause three of your subjects to disobey you, she trampled you're little army and left rocks littered about your village… not to mention she caused your beautiful castle to come apart and hang disjointed in the air…." Tom reminded the King in a spiteful tone. "So are you planning to now just let her get away with it?"

"No," Jareth said firmly. "No I'm not… I didn't come all this way, get dressed up as a teenager for nothing. I reordered time to place you here and establish a history, I'm not going to go soft and let her innocents make a mockery of my efforts."

Seeing the fight and fire back in the King, Tom smiled. "She's just a mortal, but she must be taught a lesson…one she'll never forget."

"Just a mortal," Jareth sighed closing his eyes. "But she kisses like an angel."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

Saturday the weather took a nasty turn, as often happens as the seasons change. The storms rolled in just before dawn. Sarah awoke to a gray and dingy day, knowing a outing in the park was out of the question. She showered, and changed into comfortable clothes before heading down to the kitchen where both her parents were seated at the table in what Karen called the Breakfast nook. Her father was sipping a mug of coffee that Karen had just given him. He looked up as the teen came into the room.

"Morning, Sarah." He greeted her quietly.

Karen looked over at her from the stove where she was cooking her husband's breakfast. "Sarah, you're up early…. I had thought you might sleep in this morning." Her voice and demeanor were cheery in spite of the inclement weather. "How was the concert?"

"Very nice," Sarah said moving to the coffee pot to pour herself some coffee. "Mr. Chambers made a really good program for the season finale. He ended with that lively version of Joy… always as good show stopper."

Robert was smirking. "I must call Bill and congratulate him," he said of his friend the conductor.

Karen served him his eggs and gave a slice of buttered toast to Toby in his high chair. "I'm so glad I did the shopping yesterday," She looked out the window. "I hate lugging groceries from the store to the car in the rain." She complained lightly. "No matter what you do, things get soaked."

Sarah sipped her mug of coffee, smiling at her stepmother's complaint. She had thought Karen a bit of a ninny when she'd first met her, now she realized that Karen was not a ninny but just a very animated person. She smiled at thought of how much her attitude toward Karen had changed.

"Penny for those thoughts," her father said breaking the spell.

"Oh just thinking how good Karen's coffee is on so dismal a morning," she mused.

Karen's face brightened up. "I'm glad you like it, as long as you add milk, I've no problems with you drinking coffee." She turned back to the stove; "Eggs, Sarah?"

"No thanks," she said softly. "I think I'd like just toast this morning." Karen nodded, and Sarah stretched. "The concert was good, and was the park ever crowded. We waited for almost half an hour before even trying to get into the lot."

Coming to the table with the toast, Karen took a seat at the table beside Robert. "What plans do you have for today? I image an outing in the park is out."

Sarah looked at the rain on the window, "I'd say so," she teased back. "I'm going to call Becky and ask if she wants to work on the history assignment, is it alright if I ask her over?"

"Not a problem," Karen said.

Robert smiled softly, "I've got a few hours of deliberations to go over, so I'm going to lock my self into my den. As long as you girls remember to keep your music down, I see no problem."

Sarah excused herself from the table and went to the front hall to dial the number Becky had given her. "Hi, this is Sarah Williams; I'm calling to speak to Becky." She said when the phone was answered. She looked about the foyer, as if seeing it for the first time, realizing how many things over the years she'd taken for granted. The house had been her mother's long before Karen had moved in. Many of the touches still bore the Linda Williams signature, but they were now along side the touches that Karen had added. The foyer was wide long and sparely furnished, having a classical look about it. Sarah had not appreciated the soft touches that Karen added at first, not the lacey curtains, not the knickknacks, not the pictures she changed with the seasons on the foyer wall going up the stairs that lead to the upper levels of the great house. For some reason today she was noticing them as she never had before. Karen had every right to make whatever changes she'd wished, and it was a credit to her strength of character and ego that she'd made so few. The classical wall covers in the foyer had been Linda's choice, as had most of the heavy furniture. Karen had only added things here and there. Sarah waited for Becky to answer the phone, taking in a new perspective of her surroundings.

"Hey you," Becky's voice sounded at Sarah's ear. "I was just thinking about you."

"I was wondering if you wanted to go over the history work the teacher gave out yesterday," Sarah said taking a seat on the chair beside the phone table. "That is unless you've got a date with Tom."

"Nope, not today," Becky said sounding completely confident and secure of her position in Tom Bradley's life. "I won't see Tom until this evening… he's got some stuff to do for his father today, and I'm free as a bird."

"So would you like to come over?" Sarah asked more pointedly.

"Sure, give me half an hour and I'll be there." Becky said in her chipper voice.

Sarah hung up the phone and took a good critical look at the room. There was nothing tacky about it, and she'd been a little fool to think there was. Just then the little antique clock, something Karen had added when she'd moved in, sounded. It chimed and Sarah found herself holding her breath and counting. Seven, eight, nine, ten, the sounds of the chime echoed in the room, fading into nothingness. Sarah shuddered, telling herself it was nothing, that it was nothing. Standing up she took a step toward the dramatic staircase, halting only when there was a flash of lighting and a thunderous clap of thunder. Involuntarily she gave a startled cry, and covered her mouth, muttering that it was nothing.

--

Becky arrived as the storm worsened; Karen met her at the door. "Come round the back to the kitchen door Becky," she instructed. "We'll put your wet things in the mud room to dry."

Obediently Becky ran round to the back of the old Victorian that Sarah lived in. She removed her wet rain gear and accepted the warm dry towel Karen held out to her. "Thanks Mrs. Williams… it's really pouring now, isn't it?"

"Yes, and it does not look to let up," Karen said hanging the wet rain coat on a drying rack she'd set up.

Sarah entered the room holding and soothing the fretful little brother. "Hi Becky," she greeted her friend as she handed her brother over to his mother; "How's the roads?"

"Slick," Becky said drying off. "Had you been much further I wouldn't have chanced it, I'd have turned back for home." She placed the now wet towel on the counter. "As it is, I think I'm going to keep an eye on things, if it gets much worse, I'll head home."

"I think you'd be better off staying her," Karen vetoed that idea swiftly. "I'll call your mother and let her know you arrived safely."

Both teens watched her leave, Becky smiled and sighed. "That's so thoughtful of your mom."

"Stepmother," Sarah corrected feeling a bit odd. "She's my stepmother."

"Well she's still thoughtful," Becky picked up her books that she'd set down upon entering the mudroom. "I doubt Marcy's mother would think to call anyone if it didn't involve her personally."

"I don't know Marcy's family." Sarah said leading the other girl to the stairs that led up to her room. "In fact I know very few girls or their families."

"I wasn't going to bring it up," Becky said following her friend. "But you know you're viewed as something of an odd duck, don't you?" Entering Sarah's room she looked about before moving toward the bed to take a seat.

"I've heard the rumors," Sarah confessed closing her door so they would not be overheard or observed; "Goes with the territory of having a mother who is; A. not at home and B. an actress of some note." She pulled her vanity chair toward the bed. "When my mom left I was ten, and it became the big joke to poke fun at me… you'll never guess who the ring leader was on that one."

"Marcy?" Becky asked. "That was before we moved here," she reminded Sarah. "I didn't move here until two years ago just before freshman year."

Sarah nodded, "I remember wanting to crawl in a hole," she confessed to the other.

"Marcy is just a jerk," Becky said persuasively. "Most likely she was jealous of you and your mom."

"Back then I decided I was better off with fewer friends." Sarah puffed out her cheeks and let the exasperation blow out in her next breath. "It just got too hard to know who was being real and who was being a climber."

Looking around the room Becky began to understand her friend's personality and qualities of individuality. "You've got a really great room," she commented. "And some really cool stuff."

"Well, Mom travels a lot, and sends me bits and pieces as mementos…" Sarah stood up and moved to the book shelf, "I collect old fairy tale books; I know it sounds juvenile…"

"No, it doesn't." protested Becky also moving to the book shelf. "I collect dolls, and my mother collects art. Collections are collections… they are supposed to be things you really love." She picked up a first edition of Grim's that Sarah had on her shelf. "What's juvenile about it?"

"Fairy tales;" Sarah asked in a voice that challenged her new friend.

Becky shrugged, "I don't have a problem with it, why should you?" She looked at the poster on the wall. "That's an Escher print, very cool… looks like one from the gallery on Fifth Avenue in New York."

"It is, you've got a good eye," Sarah said slightly amazed the girl knew.

"My mother buys from them," Becky confessed. "I love taking weekenders to the city with my mom. She's sort of a free spirit."

"I wondered where you got it from," Sarah teased gently. "I know it didn't come from this town."

"Well, we traveled a lot before Daddy got mustered out…" Becky said still looking about at Sarah's belongings. "See my Dad was a lifer, who married a free spirit. So my up bringing is a bit wacky. Mom's family is old money, and Daddy is new… I'm sort of in the middle I guess." She took a seat on the bed again. "I was raised with an appreciation for art, music, and literature, but don't tell anyone, I've a reputation as a bit of a Free Spirit to protect."

Sarah took her seat opposite the red haired girl. "Is it all smoke and mirrors?"

"Pretty much," Becky confessed feeling her secrets safe with Sarah. "I mean I am a free spirit, but I'm not FREE." She waved her hands about dramatically. "So far every guy I've dated here has held to the boundaries."

"You expect Tom to?" Sarah wondered just how well Becky knew Tom.

"Well," Becky sighed. "He's a bit more experienced than any other guy I've gone out with," she admitted quietly. "But so far it's just lip locks and a bit of grab ass." Sarah began to sputter, than laugh, and Becky joined in.

--

Tom sat quietly reading in the study of the large Tudor that Jareth was commandeering. The Goblin King had not yet returned to the cover house from his journey back to the Goblin Kingdom. Tom's covert parents were keeping watch over the Bradley roost and he was free to roam, unlike Jareth who had to return when an unexpected summons had sounded. The hours were passing and it was near now a full thirteen hours since he'd seen Jareth. The servants that Jareth had brought with him were keeping him comfortable. It was therefore a bit of a shock when Jareth appeared with a dwarf squabbling and squirming as the King had hold of his ear and was pulling him forcefully into the mortal realm from the Goblin Realm.

Maliciously Jareth tossed the dwarf across the room, sadistically threatening him. "You'll do as you're told or I swear I'll dip you head first into the bog with my own hands!"

"I won't," growled the dwarf unaware he was no longer in the castle; "I won't help you ever again… no other child will suffer because of Hoggle!"

"Hello Hoggle," Tom said sarcastically from his seat; "Nice to see you again."

Hoggle gasped, and looked about franticly, seeing his surroundings, he panicked and grabbed at the King's knee. "NO, don't exile me to the world of man…."

Shoving him off with a quick thrust of his leg, Jareth sneered. "Even I am not so sadistic."

"What's it done now?" Tom asked lazily placing his feet up.

"Interfered with a runner, again;" Jareth said in a long exasperated huff. "Ever since Sarah Williams this one has taken it into his head that he's some kind of hero." He looked over at the cowering figure in the corner and laughed. "You don't look much like a hero now."

Tom clucked his tongue in his cheek and shook a finger at Hoggle; "Bad dwarf." He looked at the angry Goblin King and asked. "What do you plan to do with him?"

"I'm keeping the little scab here where I can keep an eye on him." Jareth snapped his fingers and an eleven servant rushed forward eager to please. "Take this… guest down to the basement and see to it he stays there…for now, until I can think of what to do with him."

"Seems a lot of fuss for that gnome," Tom muttered sipping his drink.

Jareth held up a hand and everyone in the room went still. "What did you just say?"

Tom set his drink down, gave his last words a quick think over and repeated them. "I said it's a lot of fuss for that gnome…"

Jareth laughed vindictively. "Perfect," he flicked his wrist and the dwarf shrunk down, hardening like resin, frozen like a statue. "Put our friend out in the garden where he'll feel right at home." He commanded the Elf servant before turning to Tom. "Perhaps some fairies will come to keep him company late at night." He shouted at the servant. "Put him where I can see him, I don't trust the little scab!"

Tom snickered. "Some things never change," he rose from his seat, poured a brandy to hand off to the King now taking a seat in a chair that was throne like.

Jareth had hooked his leg over the arm and was glaring still as he reached out for the offered libation. "I should have put him in the bog, like I threatened!" Taking a sip he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What a mess, the runner nearly made it to the castle, the town is over run with angry Goblins and more of that stupid beast's rocks… the child is on his way to a new home, and the runner is refusing to leave, afraid of what mommy and daddy are going to do and say."

"What are you going to do with the runner?" Tom asked amused and glad it was not his problem.

"I'll let the boy stay," Jareth said quietly. "After he's had time to worry, he should think about what he did… but I'm not sending either one of those children back….not to the hell hole they came out of."

"If anyone in the High Court knew what a softie you really are…" warned the Fae seated across from the King. "You'd never hear the end of it."

"Well they won't hear, now will they?" Jareth challenged knowing his secrets were safe with Thomas. "Not even the High King knows how many runners I've kept. No one but whom I choose to need know how many children I took pity on, do they?"

"No," Thomas sighed sadly. "They all know about the one who got away, though."

Downing the rest of his brandy in one swift gulp, Jareth nodded. "Yes, and it's her we are here to concentrate on; her and her chastisement." He placed the brandy down. "Are you seeing the red haired pawn again?"

"Tonight," Thomas said before pointing out the window. "That is if the weather clears, I doubt her parents will allow her out of the house if the weather stays like this. I've never seen such a storm."

"I have," Jareth said leaving the chair to look out the window, remembering the storm of a year ago. "It was storming like this when I was summoned to the Williams house."

"This is no ordinary storm," observed the Fae man.

"No, it's not….it's a Sarah caused storm, just like the one I mentioned." Jareth remarked. "She has powers she is not aware of, or she chooses not to be aware of would be more correctly said." He mused with a smile, before turning to Thomas. "I wonder what or who is disturbing my Rabbit."

Thomas refilled the brandy snifter, handed to the King and mused darkly; "Who indeed."

Jareth looked at the new garden gnome gracing the yard, and laughed. "The games go on."

--

Sarah looked at Becky's notes, and finished up her copy of them. "You take really good notes," she commented.

"I've a mind like a steel trap my dad says," Becky boasted as she closed her history book and began to gather her belongings. "Damn that storm does not seem to be moving on, does it? Looks like Tom is not going to be able to take me to the movies…"

"I'm sorry," Sarah said softly closing the other girls note book and handing it to her to be put in the waterproof pouch she was carrying. "What were you planning on seeing?"

"Oh that new film with all the music and dancing from the sixties… Dirty Dancing I think it's called." Becky said packing her book. "But it's not going to happen if this storm does not clear out. My folks won't let me go back out once I leave here…" Becky sounded forlorn.

Sarah sighed in sympathy, "I wish the storm would break." She walked behind Becky out of the bedroom, not noticing the storm clouds beginning to part.

By the time they reached the mud room the darkness of the storm was departing, and the late afternoon sun was beginning to peep out from under the cloud cover. Becky smiled as they both stepped out into the fresh air. "Looks like my date is on," Becky beamed.

Sarah waved her friend off, wishing her a happy time. She closed the door, before offering help to her stepmother making dinner.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

Sarah cleared and cleaned the dinner table, giving Karen a break. She even offered to bring coffee to her parents in the salon if they wanted to have a cup. Her father accepted, but Karen declined on the grounds she was already caffeinated enough for one day. She watched the teen take things into the kitchen and smiled over at Robert. "She's trying," she murmured. "That's all I ever asked for." Robert shrugged.

Sarah had just finished in the kitchen, and was preparing to go up to her room when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she called to her parents. Stepping down to the foyer floor from the stairs she moved to the vestibule and looked out, "Jerry King, what is he doing here." She muttered to herself opening the door. "Yes?"

Jerry gave her a haughty little smirk. "Hello Rabbit," he stood in the open door. "I found something in the back seat of Tom's dad's car when we were cleaning it today." He lifted his hand to reveal the amber antique pin. "I believe this belongs to you."

Sarah gasped. "My pin, but how?"

"Sarah," her father called out coming into the hall. "Who's here?"

"It's Jerry King dad." She said knowing there was no way around it. "He's returning my pin."

Robert frowned, "I thought I warned you about being careless with jewelry," he fumed. "I told you not to wear the antique pins your Grandmother left you, didn't I?"

"Oh I don't think it's her fault, sir," Jerry interrupted. "The clasp on the back was wobbly, and would not hold, I fixed it for you."

"You did?" She questioned, not sure she could believe him.

"It was easy," he turned the pin over to explain what he'd done. He ended his explanation with, "I tinker with watches and time pieces, and it's a hobby of mine. A broken clasp is a snap to fix."

Robert Williams looked at the pin; it was obvious that someone had worked on the back, so the explanation seemed reasonable. "That was very nice of you," he looked at Sarah as he handed the pin back to her. "Invite your friend in." He returned to his paper in the salon.

Sarah looked at Jerry; "You don't want to come in, do you?"

He moved closer; "Don't mind if I do, Rabbit…I've got no where else to be." He snickered when she jumped back and nearly fell over. He put a hand on her wrist to steady her. "Unless you'd like to come out for a walk instead," he countered knowing she was not thrilled with the idea of him entering her home.

Slipping the precious pin into her jean's pocket, Sarah called into the parlor. "I'm going for a walk… I won't be gone long." She pulled the door shut behind her. "Lead on."

Shoving his hands into his pockets he headed toward the park. "I don't understand why you don't like me Rabbit."

"I never said I didn't like you," she said walking at his side, her arms hanging at her side. "I don't know you." Out of habit she turned to take one of the short cuts that she'd had used over the years, Jerry now followed her. The path lead to the backside of a bunch of houses scattered on the raised ravine. Just past the ravine there was the little row of shops that had been there since the turn of the century.

"You come this way often?" Jerry's inquiry cracked like a whip.

Sarah stopped, looked about herself and frowned. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "I come this way often."

Jerry looked at the ravine, the houses, and the row of shops just up the path. "Rabbit, just how far do you intend to run?"

Sarah looked at the area, seeing it with new eyes. It was rundown and seedy, and just now it felt unsafe. She turned to look at the young man from England, expecting to see abhorrence and repulsion in his eyes for the surroundings. Neither was present, what was there was something more like hunger. The girl found that it both frightened and excited her, and left her feeling very confused. His smug expression was like a spark plug and she turned defendant. "Who says I'm running?"

Jerry allowed one elegant brow to rise up, as he tilted his head slightly. Deciding to prove a point, he took a deliberate step toward her. She drew back, startled. "I say you're running," his voice was still, low and just a touch dangerous. He took another step toward her.

"I am not," she defended herself with words as she took yet another step involuntarily back.

Jerry knew she was only aware of his presence, and not the tree she was backing into. Testing the waters, he took yet another step toward her, then another. Soon the girl was backed into the large old gnarly oak and his hands moved to imprison her between the tree and himself. "Rabbit," he teased. "You've run as far as you're going to."

Sarah made a contorted face as she twisted to find her self trapped. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop running," he teased moving closer. "I want you to look at me, and talk to me, not past me." Sarah's head turned to look at him in the dimming light; he brought one hand up to brush her cheek. "That's better." He stroked the line of her cheekbone while looking into her eyes. "I'm not the big bad wolf you know."

"Not much," she disagreed in a voice that quivered.

"Rabbit, have I even tried to take one bite out of your sweet little hide?" He teased.

"Why me," she asked closing her eyes. "You could have any girl, Junior or Senior, so why go after me?" She opened her eyes demanding an answer.

He reflected on her question, his face turning serious. "I suppose you're right, I could have just about any girl I wanted…" his eyes darkened, no longer was there playful mischief there. Now they were dark pools of sweltering lava in the center and his focus was on Sarah. "What I want is you, little girl."

"Why?" Sarah demanded again. "I'm not the richest girl, or even the prettiest girl… and Lord knows I'm not the most experienced girl; so why? Why me?"

The hand on her cheek smoothed the scowl line, moved to her chin to tip her defiant face upward. "Because, Rabbit," He whispered as he lowered his lips to hers. "You're the flint in my striker." With just his lips, and the hand holding her chin, he extracted an exciting response from the captive girl. Although he wanted to overpower her, drag her off to some cave in the nether world, he kept his libido in check. Moving his lips over hers in gentle persuasion he was finding her receptive. Slowly he worked to diminish her fears, slanting his mouth until she was responding in kind. He moved his jaw, the slight pressure giving him access to her opening lips. Gently he slid the tip of his tongue over her tender and swollen lips.

Sarah pulled back, questions in her green eyes, not sure what was going on. Her lips trembled, her breath became labored and she quivered deliciously. Sliding his hand down he throat, until the thumb rested in the pulsating hollow, he gazed at her with lusty eyes. Jerry rested his forehead on hers for a moment, there was pleasure in his voice; "Did I frighten you, Rabbit? I didn't mean to… it's hard to resist something as tempting as your lips," his voice dropping down to the low tenor range. "You reach into the very heart of me, to my soul… and I want to reach into yours." He murmured as he moved his hand to cradle her chin. "Let me kiss your soul…." His voice dropped deeper, reverberating before he again lowered his lips to hers and found them parting to his entry. His tongue finding no restraint delved into the sweetness of her warm, moist mouth. He slid compellingly over her tongue, drawing it into a tango. His free hand dropped to her waist, pulling her closer gently. Jareth's adult mind and physical reactions restraining just how close he drew her in, aware of how his body had leapt to respond to her. He knew he had to be careful not to have their bodies' touch, least she feel his throbbing restrained member and bolt. Sarah's response emitted sounds that gathered in the back of her throat, it was new and foreign to her. It was something between a sigh and mewl, something that lodged and would not move. Jerry lingered in the kiss, and then slowly pulled back. "No ice there," he murmured looking into the still questioning eyes.

Sarah heard the shuddered sigh escape her open mouth. Her lips felt bruised, swollen, and tingled with the need for more abuse. "Jerry…" she whispered his name, not trusting her voice.

"No," he placed a finger on her trembling lips. "No words. Not now." He rested his forehead once more on hers. "I'm going to remember that you're not use to this, and I'm going to take you home… before I forget to be a gentleman…" He took a long deep cleansing breath. "Damn it Rabbit," he teased as he composed himself. "That's some soul you've got there."

Sarah looked at him, her eyes held the same frightened and awakened look as they had when she'd been in the crystal bubble. He pulled back a step but kept his hand at her waist. "You keep looking at me like that Rabbit; and we're both going to be in trouble." He warned softly. He tipped her face up, kissed her nose, and smiled at her. "Was it too awful?"

"No," she admitted breathily. "It wasn't awful at all."

"Then you'll let me kiss you again?" He stroked her chin, and worked his way down her long throat longingly.

She nodded, fearful of sounding far too eager.

Stepping back he held out his hand to her, when she'd placed hers in the center of the extended hand, he turned to head back toward her house. "No more running?"

"I can't promise that," she answered quietly.

He snickered. "Well, just know this, Rabbit. You can run, but you can't hide." He paused, turned to look at her and lowered his voice into a range that she'd never heard. "No matter where you'd go, I'd find you. No matter how long it took… When I want something…I get it." Sarah stared back, eyes opening wide as she saw something almost feral in the blue gazing at her. He tightened his fingers over hers and raised her hand to his lips. "Once I have something, I have it forever."

'Only forever, not long at all…' the words echoed in her brain, and she quickly pushed them to the back of her mind. This was Jerry King, teen aged heart throb, not Jareth the Goblin King. This was not the same, she told herself, and this was different.

As they neared her house he slowed his pace. "Some of the guys are getting together for pizza next Saturday," he said sounding casual. "Be my date." It was not a question, it was not a statement; it just hung in the air."

"Alright," she answered after a brief moment of hesitation. She stepped up on to the porch.

He stepped up beside her; both hands now tipped and cupped her face. "Goodnight, Rabbit." He whispered before gently kissing her, this time it was not the heated kiss he'd given in the ravine. This was almost chaste, but nonetheless exhilarating. He pulled back before he was tempted to take more. Sarah's lips were parting and the urge to lock tongues was nearly overpowering his senses. "Behave, Rabbit." He warned darkly. "I'm no saint."

"I don't want a saint," she found herself confessing.

"Good thing," his hands moved away from her face, and swiftly he stepped off the porch. "Because you're not getting one," he moved toward his car before he could change his mind and take her up on the unspoken offers in her eyes and lips. "Good night Rabbit."

"Good night," she called to him before moving into the house. As she closed the door she wondered gently what in the hell had gotten into her.

--

A few short blocks from the Williams house, Jareth dropped the glamour and caused the car to vanish. He took to the skies in owl form thinking it would clear his mind. Instead, it seemed to sharpen the focus of his desires and his needs. He landed on the obelisk in the park, broodingly he watched as the moon began to rise in the sky. In owl form he had all the answers, for an owl was born knowing all the answers to every question. If only he could keep the answers once he returned to his Fae form. If only he could use what he knew, instead of what he felt. If only, if only, if only.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8.**

Becky didn't seem surprised on Monday morning when Sarah told her she'd agreed to go out with Jerry. Nor did she seem surprised when Sarah admitted she'd not even thought about making it a double date. She smiled at her friend and said quietly, "I'm sure Jerry would rather you two were alone."

Sarah wanted to bang her head on the dash board, pound some sense into herself. "What am I doing?" she moaned agitatedly.

"You're dating," Becky teased. "You're dating one of the hottest bad boys in the school, perhaps it town!" Seeing the recognition and fear, she giggled loudly. "You're one of the most envied girls in school."

"I'm feeling more like a duck out of water…" she complained. "I'm going to tell him it's off… I'm not comfortable with this whole idea."

"Right," Becky said knowingly. "You'll see him in study hall…go ahead, tell him it's off." She pulled her VW into the school lot, and parked. "I'll see you in History Sarah." The girl with red curls walked off with the kind of confidence Sarah longed for.

With just one minute until the bell would ring, Jerry and the rest of his boys sauntered into the study hall. Instead of sitting with them, he came straight back to where Sarah was seated. He straddled the desk backward and stared at her. All eyes in the room were looking at them. Jerry ignored or was oblivious to the stares and the gossip and the hushed voices.

"Rabbit," he said with a half smile. "You look like you're thinking of running again."

"Why do you have to have such … fox like senses?" Sarah whispered, not really wanting to air their discussion in public.

"Rabbit," he held out his hand, and waited until she put hers with in its grasp. "I'm looking forward to our date." He said loud and clear.

Sarah trembled, but his eyes would not allow her to look elsewhere. "I am too." She said at long last, if much quieter than his voice.

He hand not relinquished her hand, but held it while he began an inane conversation that set the gossips running off at the mouths. Her hand was kept in his gentle clasp though out the entire study hall until the bell rang and it was time for her to go to History. She rose from her seat, and he told her he'd see her later. She moved at an easy pace toward the door and down the hall.

Becky looked up from her desk as Sarah entered and smiled. "So what are you wearing Saturday night?"

Sarah put her head on the desk and moaned, then giggled. "Hell if I know, I was thinking a chastity belt."

Becky snickered, "I'm thinking of going shopping on Friday after school, want to come along?"

"I'd love it," Sarah said sitting upright again. "Maybe we can find something for me as well."

--

Tom found Jerry sitting on the TR6 at the end of the day looking like he was contemplating a planetary takeover; "Weight of the world?"

"No, just one teen aged girl," Jerry muttered. "Do the creatures have to be so damned mystifying?"

"Oh don't tell me you'd want them to be more like the males." Tom chided.

Shaking his head, the Glamour of the English boy slipped slightly. "No, but I would like to know why it is they are so…flighty."

"I don't know," confessed the darker Fae. "I'm having trouble figuring out my own vixen thank you." He moved around the car to open the passenger door.

Jerry pulled his Glamour back together before any one of the mortals noticed. He gunned the engine and left a burn out strip on his way out of the parking lot. "I should never have let her out of that damned oubliette," he cursed. "I should have let her stay there until she was ready to give up to me."

"From what I know of this sordid tale," Thomas dropped the glamour altogether once they were a few blocks from the school. "That would have been an eternity."

"Oh I doubt that," Jareth sighed deeply. "Not after the way she kissed me."

"Ah but it was not you she kissed," Thomas reminded him stoutly. "It was Jerry King who she kissed with such willing lips."

Jareth shrugged, "Jerry King, Jareth Goblin King, what difference does the name make?"

"Care to up the stakes?" Thomas asked teasingly. "Care to test the waters as the Goblin King?"

A cold steely look centered in the mismatched eyes that were no longer covered by the glamour. "That would mean having to explain my presence…something I don't think she'd find all that enticing."

"Then you admit she'd drawn to your mortal guise, and not you." Thomas stated as if he were daring the King to deny the truth.

"Of course she's drawn to my guise, I planned it thus remember… I'll dance her about, and when she's good and willing I shall turn my back on her as she turned her back on me." Jareth stated frostily.

Thomas tapped his chin with long delicate fingers; "Ah but how much better to be able to spurn her not only in mortal guise but in Fae as well."

Jareth smiled smugly; "I shall give your suggestion some thought," he turned to the road that led to the Tudor.

--

Karen tapped lightly on the door of Sarah's room, knowing the girl was doing her homework. "Sarah, I was wondering what your plans for the week are."

"I don't have any," she said not looking up from her work. "Not until Saturday night, I've a date with Jerry King then." She continued her work, but could feel the eager eyes of her stepmother resting on her; "Anything else?"

"Where are you going?" Karen ventured into the statuary cautiously.

Sarah laid her pen down before looking over at the intruder. "We're going out with a large group of kids for pizza. There's going to be six or seven couples."

"That sound nice," Karen inched closer; "And after?" Blinking the teen shrugged; even she had not thought that far ahead. Her stepmother inched ever closer. "I think that since it's not a school night we can set your curfew at eleven thirty, does that sound reasonable?"

Sarah shrugged again, "I guess." The rising panic sounded in her voice, and was now reaching her eyes. "I'm sure I'll be home long before that."

Karen slowly sat down, "Sarah," her voice was edged with that sound she made when she was about to lecture.

Sarah looked at her pensively, not sure of where her stepmother was headed; only sure she didn't want to go there.

"Sarah," She began again, "I know I'm not your mother…," her voice sounded more panicked than Sarah felt. "But in her absence…." The girl looked sharply at her. "NO, I'm saying this wrong." She began again. "Sarah, this past summer you spent time with your mom, did she… have… the talk… with you?"

"The talk?" Sarah racked her brain, what the hell was the woman trying to ask.

"Yes_**… the talk**_," Karen made eye contact and kept it.

Sarah felt color flood her face. "Oh, _**the talk**_," she nodded swiftly making sure Karen understood. She saw the woman visibly relax.

"Thank God," she muttered, and looked at the girl. "I was not sure how to go about having it with you." She looked utterly relieved. "Good, but if there's anything you're not sure of… or need more information on…"

Spontaneously and for the first time in as long as she could remember Sarah reached out her hand and took Karen's. She'd made such an effort in the past never to come into contact with her, now she found it was reassuring for both of them. "If I need to, I'll ask… and thank you for wanting to… be there to guide me."

Karen gave the hand holding hers a gentle squeeze. "I'm really not the wicked stepmother you know."

Sarah nodded, "I know."

"Would you mind a little advice from me?" She asked quietly knowing her feelings and interference were not always welcome. Sarah gave her a curt nod, Karen held her hand tighter. "Go with your gut feelings Sarah, if you think something is wrong, it usually is."

Sarah blinked, having thought she was going to get a long lecture she was only surprised but pleased her stepmother was giving her credit for not being stupid. "Thanks…Karen." She still could not quite bring herself to call the woman mom, but at least she didn't feel like she was the enemy anymore.

"Do you need anything for that night?" Karen stood up moving to the door and the safety of the hall. "Oh, and take some cash with you, a girl should always have her own cab fair for a quick escape." She placed her hand on the door frame. "Okay?"

"Yep," she pretended to go back to work on her homework, when she knew the coast was clear; she placed her head in her hands and groaned.

--

Jareth paced the lower level of the Tudor tapping his riding crop against his boot in quick little strokes. He had ordered that he not be disturbed, and so far no one had gone against his orders. He was courting disaster, and was only too well aware of it. It had been almost too quiet, and he was sure something was going to get in the way in his master plan. He could just feel it, something was about to hinder his progress. This kind of apprehension always seemed to precede a summons. The very last thing the Goblin King wanted was to be in the middle of smooching the girl and be summoned.

He stopped short, the last tap of the crop hitting his leg instead of his boot. Had he just used the word smooching in his thoughts? Smooching? Where the hell was that coming from; he wondered. The word galled him and yet, it was burned in his thoughts. 'Smooching the girl', ever since the moment she'd parted her tender lips and allowed him to plunder her sweet mouth…. He shook himself, this would never do, he was here to exact a compensation from her. A recompense for all the suffering she'd inflicted on him.

Still, he mused as he stood alone in the lower level of the grand house, her lips had been honeyed sweet and tender. His pride had been assuaged by the knowledge that his was the first and only mouth on hers. The memory of her not only allowing but willingly participating in the kiss warmed him. He scratched his head with the end of the crop; perhaps he had been too swift to judge the girl… Perhaps the best recompense would be one that took time to be paid out.

"Smooching," he said aloud before laughing merrily.

--

Robert sat with his evening paper, his pipe clenched in his teeth. Karen was seated across from him working on some needle point she had started. Toby, sat on the rung between them playing with the set of blocks Mrs. Miller had presented him with earlier that day. Robert looked over the edge of his paper, looked at the clock on the wall, before going back to his reading. Karen glanced over at the clock, and went on with her needle work.

Up in her room, Sarah busied herself with dressing for her date. The shopping spree with Becky the day before had gleaned several new items, including the long denim skirt with its matching jacket and the pretty linen blouse. She had tried several different ways of wearing her long hair. Nothing but letting it hang over her shoulders seemed to please her. On her vanity, the little antique pin sat, and she picked it up on a whim to pin it to her denim jacket. The amber bob dangled off the larger amber set in a gold backing; it was just the right contrast to the blue of the denim. Seated at the vanity, looking in the mirror, Sarah was half tempted to call out to Hoggle. She fought the temptation; after all it had been months since she'd called for her Underground friends. I was best to let the past be the past, wasn't it?

--

Jerry stepped out of the little car, looked up at the window of the room of the girl, and smirked before moving to the porch and front door. It amused him that he was being welcomed by the very people who should fear him the most. He harbored no ill will toward the parents, or the golden haired little boy. Yet, had the stepmother known what the girl had done, he mused, she would be a far more dangerous advisory than he was. The father was deceptive in his docile manners, beneath that calm lay the heart and will of a warrior. The hidden vestige of the Goblin King, under the guise of the English boy was experienced enough with this family to know better than to underestimate anyone of them. He focused his thoughts, made sure the glamour was firmly in place before ringing the door bell.

Karen opened the door, "Jerry, you look very nice." She stepped out of the way so he could enter the foyer. "Sarah will be right down," she assured him pertly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Williams," He addressed the woman politely.

Toby, hearing the voice ran into the foyer, throwing himself at the legs of the young man. "Go, ride," he begged.

Reaching down, Jerry wrangled the squirming little body. He lifted the boy up easily, and held him eye level. "Not tonight my fine fellow tonight belongs to your sister." The baby looked at him, not seeing the glamour, but seeing the face that had filled his dreams for a year now. He hard the voice that was music to his ears, and responded to it.

Karen mused, "I've never seen him react to anyone but Sarah like that."

"Really?" Jerry smiled.

Sarah heard the voices as she exited her room moving to the landing outside the hall. She saw that Jerry was holding her brother, talking casually with Karen, and everything seemed fine. However the hair at the nape of her neck was standing on end, and she felt fear grab her heart at the sight of the babe in the young man's arms. Sarah didn't like the fact that Toby looked so comfortable with Jerry, it gave her the willies. Painting on a smile that she didn't feel she called out as pleasantly as she could; "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

Jerry looked up at her with a bold smile. "Not at all," he handed Toby back to Karen before moving toward the stairs. "You look great."

"You too," she said, but she was sure that this confident young man was already well aware of just how wonderful he looked. The brushed cotton shirt in a shade of blue that brought out the blue in his eyes, the slender fitted jeans, and the soft leather of his boots gave him an appearance that said he knew he looked good. His eyes sparkled with some kind of wicked pleasure and it was all too obvious that he had plans in the works. Sarah fought the urge to run back to her room, bar the door and hide under the bed. She looked over at Karen, "Good night," she whispered before kissing her squirming baby brother.

Robert entered the foyer from the parlor, his paper in hand, pipe in his teeth. He removed the pipe giving Jerry a serious look. "Her curfew is eleven." His voice was curt and firm.

"Yes sir," Jerry nodded holding the door for Sarah as they exited the house.

Karen looked quizzically at her husband, whose face softened the moment the teens had left. "That was an act?"

"I'm a father, it's expected," Robert sighed going back to the parlor.

--

Jerry smiled at Sarah as he started the engine of the car, his eyes devouring her like a horderve. He noticed she sat still, barely breathing let alone talking. "Rabbit," he said gently to calm her, only to have her jump at the sound of his voice. "Are you always so nervous on a date?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "This is my first one."

The part of the boy that was pure Goblin King smiled, "I see."

"I wonder if you do," she whispered to herself looking out the window, thinking of jumping.

"It's just pizza, Rabbit." He reminded her as he pulled the car into the busier traffic of the main part of town. "I hear this place we're going to is the hot spot for all the kids, have you ever been there?"

"No," she said being drawn into the conversation.

He could see the amber pin on her left side of the denim jacket. "You seem very fond of that little pin," he observed casually. "Is it special?"

Sarah fingered the amber and smiled, "I guess you could say it was." Finding that just touching the pin gave her a sense of fearlessness. She relaxed and smiled at her date.

--

Jenny Michaels and Steve Wheeler were standing outside the pizza parlor with Becky and Tom when Jerry pulled into the parking lot. He held the car door open for Sarah; possessively he slipped his hand to her waist as they walked up the path to the front door. Jenny was hanging on to Steve and doting on his every word. Steve halted telling his story to greet the Brit and his dated, then continued. Tom and Becky were laughing at the antics the boy divulged in his tale.

"I set reservations for seven thirty, and it's nearly that now." Tom said opening the door and holding it for his date.

"Great, I'm starving," Jerry said as he and Sarah followed.

The three couples were the first to arrive and were seated at a large table near the back of the parlor. Jerry draped his arm over the back of Sarah's chair as he leaned forward to converse with Tom across the table. Jenny, seated beside Sarah lost her smile and whispered. "Oh no, here comes trouble."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

Sarah turned, looking at where Jenny was staring. David Merck was just coming in with Marcy Daniels. With them were Laura Davis and her date Paul Banning. Becky turned in her seat to see what her friends were looking at and slightly stiffened at the sight of Marcy. She looked at Tom who shrugged.

"Did you know they were coming?" Becky asked quietly not wanting to start a scene.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Tom replied.

Becky looked over at Sarah who was looking unfazed, "I hope not."

The two recently arrived couples took seats and a few minutes later a waitress came over to take their order. Jerry moved his hand from the back of the seat to place it visibly on Sarah's shoulder. He smiled at her as the conversation turned to the subject of school. Marcy sat down at the table glaring at Sarah when no one else was looking. Laura leaned to her whispered something and both girls laughed scornfully. Sarah heard the laughter; the hand at her shoulder gave her a gentle squeeze. She turned to look into blue eyes that were focused on her alone, and she smiled.

The teens lingered over the meal, enjoying the company for the most part. Whenever she could, Marcy would make some comment to make Sarah feel uncomfortable. Each time she did Jerry moved closer, protective, possessive and wary. When at the end of the meal she excused herself, Sarah thought the restroom would be relatively safe. She was wrong; Becky stood up as well and followed.

The boys were dividing the cost of the meal as Sarah and Becky excused themselves. Paul muttered something to Tom as he tossed some bills onto the table. "That's sounds like a plan. I think she'll swing for it." Tom glanced over to Jerry. "You in for the Shack?"

Taking a final look at the bill before putting in his portion, Jerry shook his blond head as he responded without looking at the others. "No."

Marcy looked over from her conversation with Laura at this. She smirked at hearing Jerry's rejection of the shack. Could he be bored with the little Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes? David rolled his eyes as he could see the wheels turning in his date's pretty blonde head.

"Why not?" Tom asked.

With a level gaze, Jerry looked at Marcy as he answered Tom, "Because I doubt that the Shack is Sarah's style."

Marcy stood up slowly, with a vicious little glint forming in her eyes as she excused herself. Laura stood as well and followed her toward the ladies restroom. When they entered Becky was washing her hands, she looked up at the pair entering with suspicious eyes. Sarah exited the cubical, seeing the others she began to feel cornered.

"I guess this where you're going to be leaving us for the evening." Marcy boasted directing her speech at the girl with long dark hair. "The rest of us are going on to the old shack on Mulligan Hill. I heard Jerry tell Tom he wouldn't bother to bring you." Wordlessly Sarah pressed past the two sneering girls. Marcy's parting Shot was meant to hurt. "Don't worry 'bout Jerry, Sarah honey….I'll be more than happy to keep him warm." Laura snorted, her mouth flying open and the sound echoing around the little restroom, Marcy joined in the merriment at Sarah's expense.

Sarah stared at the pair for a moment, the laughter and scornful looks were so familiar. Their contorted faces were grotesque at that moment, more like monstrous masks than faces. 'Goblins,' Sarah thought to herself harshly as she moved quickly past the pair. She was more somber as she took her seat.

Becky gave Marcy a sweltering look, "Poor David, so hard up he had to stoop to asking you out. Are you so crass you'd dump your date when things got interesting, or just such a slut to do both boys at the same time?"

Marcy's eyes flamed, "I can promise you both would have a better time with me."

"Big talk," Becky made a puppet gesture with her hand before exiting to rejoin the group at the table. She sat down with a huff, looking ready to chew nails and spit rust.

Jerry gave her shoulder a squeeze, "Come on," he said as he stood up. "Time to go."

Sarah had enjoyed most of the evening, and now it was coming to an end. She wondered if Marcy was right; was Jerry going to dump her at her front porch and race up to the shack for some more exciting entertainment than she could provide? Silently she slid into the passenger's seat and buckled up. Jerry took his place behind the driver's seat, turned the key and gunned the engine. Pulling into the street, he didn't turn toward Sarah's house, nor did he take the road that lead to the teen hangout. Sarah wondered for a moment if he was planning on taking a spin through the park, but he didn't use the turnoff that would put them in the park. The TR6 headed toward the surrounding hillside, and a little road that few knew existed. He drove in silence for about ten minutes before Sarah looked at him in surprise and asked. "Where are we going?"

Jerry kept his eye on the winding narrow path of road. "Somewhere I think you'll like."

She blinked her face a mask of confusion. "You're not taking me home?" There was a tiny little quiver in her voice, betraying that she was relieved that she was not being dumped so he could rush off to play dirty games with one of the willing girls at the shack.

"Not with nearly two hours left of our date time," he teased, speeding up just enough to hear her squeak. "You're not tired, are you?"

"No," she said tightening her seat belt and hanging on to the edge of the seat. "Slow down," she warned.

"I know what I'm doing," he assured her but he did slow it as they came over a rise. "It's just up a head," he brought the car to a halt and turned off the engine. He exited the car, came around to her door and opened it. "This is it," he held his hand out to help her out of the car.

Sarah stepped out and looked at the vista before her. "Where are we?"

"This is an old saw mill road outside of town," Jerry explained taking her hand and leading her toward the edge of the vista. Below them, the entire town was spread out. "I found this road shortly after we moved in town." Holding her back from the edge, he warned gently. "Careful Rabbit, it's a long drop."

Sarah looked at the view; it was breathtaking. She turned to look at the English boy. "You didn't want to go to the shack with the rest of the gang?"

One hand moved to brush the hair from her face and he smiled depravedly. "Now why would I want to take you to a smelly old shack where we'd be under everybody's oh-so-watchful eyes? When I can kiss you here under the stars and in private, Rabbit?" He drew her closer with the hand in her hair. "Don't you think this is better?"

The urge to resist passed quickly, and she found her head resting against his shoulder as his arms wound about her turning her to face him. "Yes, this is better," she agreed softly.

Jerry's hand moved under her chin, tipping her face up ever so slightly. Gazing into her eyes, he breathed in the gentle scent she was wearing. The scent was the same as what she wore a year before, and it filled him with longing. "You are enough to drive a man senseless, little Rabbit," he murmured as his lips met hers. The kiss left him hungering for more, yet the adult Jareth's mind told the teen glamour to keep the assault on the girl slow and easy. Releasing her lips from his, he looked at her face and marveled how little she'd changed in that year they had been apart. Her features were still so unsullied, and her innocence was like a veil covering her. He moved his thumb gently over her chin, "Sarah," he breathed her name softly as he again moved to taste her sweet lips. The tip of his tongue tracing before pressing between her parting lips.

Unsure of what to do, Sarah brought her hands up to his chest, there they rested while he teased and gave her mouth gentle torment. It was thrilling, this dizzy feeling he ignited within her. Responding to the gentle torment seemed so natural, as if she'd awoken from a dream and was completely herself.

Jerry pulled back, held her at arms length, "I think we should sit down before we fall down." He teased as he led her to a level spot that overlooked the panorama view. The tall grass was bent and drying, but was clean. The air seemed filled with electrical charges and he reminded himself again to move slowly. "Do you like my secret place?"

Sarah blushed, tried to hide her face, "I like it very much." She looked over her shoulder at the view spread out below in the valley. The low rise hills of the town were visible, and she could see her house off in the distance. "This must be what it's like to fly."

Jerry looked at her, wondering if she were picking up on subtle hints. "How so?"

"Here, away from everything, you can see… really see." She answered still looking down at the town.

The Glamour of the Brit moved to place his arm to her waist, pulling her closer. His free hand moved to her face, gently persuading her to give him access once more to her tender lips. After a few more moments of tongue tango, he pulled back, more to give himself time to compose than anything else. He looked at her with contentment and asked; "Still afraid of me, Rabbit?"

Sarah blushed, "I… yes… a little."

Drawing her face to his, he planned on stilling any fears. He hesitated, looked at the face of the girl with her eyes shut and accepting. Something began to prickle at him, and he knew that his worst fear for the evening was about to occur a summons… and he was forsworn to answer. He cursed quietly under his breath, and froze time. He looked at the mortal girl, like a statue with lips puckered slightly awaiting another kiss. "I'll be right back, sweetheart." He promised as he dropped the glamour revealing his true nature, that of the Goblin King.

--

Standing up he moved swiftly to follow the summons. It had come from a long distance, and it was already chaos when he arrived at the little cottage where a girl a few years younger than his Sarah was battling two of his larger goblins. "Cease!" he ordered, and the goblins drew back. The girl turned to look at him with the same fierceness he'd witnessed in Sarah. The look amused him and he smiled haughtily at the child. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes," she said in a snarl.

"Good," he moved closer, hands to his hips and formidable. "You've wished away your…" He paused closed his eyes and allowed the information to form, "Little sister."

"I didn't wish her away," the child protested harshly. "I wished myself away!"

Jareth looked at the girl in mock surprise, "The words spoken were for your sister."

The girl sat down, feeling more dejected than ever, and dissolved into a puddle of tears. "I don't remember what I said…"

The goblins snickered and jeered the girl's troubles and woes. Jareth hissed and they stilled. He moved to where the child was now bent over trembling and sobbing loudly. "Come here child," he coaxed in a quiet and understanding voice. "Come, tell me what has happened that you would commit so serious an undertaking as to make this kind of wish for either you or your sister," goblin eyes stared at the King. Jareth ignored their baleful looks as the little girl crumpled into his arms, weeping into his chest. He looked about the room of the cottage; it didn't seem to be too bad a place. It was meager, but clean, and it seemed filled with love, but it was empty and there were strange sounds outside.

"They took mama and papa away…" the child sobbed.

Jareth gathered her in his cloak, pity in his heart for this little orphan. "Come away, oh human child," he murmured.

--

Sarah fell into a dreamy like state, her mind in the darkness filling with images of crystals and music and dancers. She heard a voice, but was not sure where it was coming from.

--

Jareth returned having delivered the child to his castle and ordering his servants to make both children there comfortable. He knew he could not leave the mortal world in a suspended state too long. He sensed the images playing in the girl's mind, and frowned. She was too astute and that could be a problem. He moved to where she sat, and resumed his position before unfreezing the frame of time. He took the open invitation of her lips willingly, giving her what she expected as he released the spell. His mouth moved over hers with an urgent hunger, a need he had not felt in his long reign as Goblin King. He moved his lips to part hers, as his tongue began sliding into her mouth. His hands moved over her with gentle coaxing, pulling her closer until she was nestled against him. His lips moved down to her chin, as his hand slid from her throat lower, he felt her shiver as he grazed skin that had never felt this kind of enticement.

His lips moved down her long swan like throat, tracing a line from her ear lobe to her collarbone. His hand moved gently migrating under her jacket, coming to rest on the warm fullness of her breast. He could feel the tautness and knew she was responding to him and his touch. He wondered if she were experiencing the tingle he'd been told women felt in the nipple as it hardened when aroused. It didn't matter, he told himself, all that mattered was she was responding. His lips worked their way back up her neck; his tongue licked and tickled the tender skin. When he reached a tender point just below her ear, he fastened his mouth to her throat, sucking greedily. His hand began kneading the mound of flesh, as he sucked on her throat to leave his mark.

Sarah arched, making a sweet dark noise in the very back of her throat. His hand was gently demanding, his lips and tongue and teeth felt exciting and she didn't even mind that he was biting her. She had long dreamed of someone kissing her, holding her, and wanting her in just this way. Yet in those dreams, she could never seem to place a face on the man. She opened her eyes as her breathing became ragged. Her lips trembled with need and desires she'd never known she had. She didn't stop him, but was not sure how to encourage him. His hand had moved down from her chest, over her belly pressing firmly as it migrated back up following the button trail to where it ended and her skin began. Sarah had never experienced anything so thrilling and exhilarating or electrifying as this. She wondered how it was he knew just how to cause the little shocks and pleasures she was experiencing. As his hand moved under the fabric of her blouse's opening and covered the lace of her bra she gave a startled gasp. Where the hell was this going? Fear kicked in high gear. What would Karen think? What would the kids at school say? What the hell was going on and, oh God, was she ready? "Stop," she begged suddenly.

Jareth heard the sound, felt her arch, as he nipped her skin. His hand now sat upon the soft lace of her bra cup, and he could feel her heart pound with excitement. He could feel the heat of her body responding to his touch. "Why?" He murmured with a dreamy, glazed look.

Sarah looked franticly about, "This is moving way too fast…" she put her hand on his wrist, but it didn't move. "This is only our second date." She pleaded as she moved his hand out of the opening of her blouse. "I'm not that kind of girl, Jerry."

Giving her a sheepish and guilty grin, he took a long deep breath. "Sure of that, are you?" His grown-up mind went to places he'd like to take her. His imagination had her blouse open and her breasts exposed. His lips locked on one nipple sucking madly as his fingers tickled the nipple of the other breast. He could envision her skirt flap unbuttoned up to where he'd have access to her panties. He wondered to himself if she were getting just a little moist. His hand itched to glide into the silky fabric, over damp curls, and into her slickness. From there, it became an intimate picture of lovely passion that he could not bring into being. He reminded himself of that as soon as he'd said the taunt. He sighed, pulled back, and took a long cleansing breath. "Yeah, I know you're not… but a guy can wish, can't he?"

Sarah blushed at his suggestion, "I guess I can't stop you from wishing."

Jerry's face worked at suppressing the smirk that was about to crack his face open. He stood up, "I think I'd better take you home," he groaned. "Or you won't be a good girl much longer."

--

He had played the radio softly on the drive home; he had also taken the road very slowly, not rushing. Smiling he looked over at her, she seemed happy, and content to just listen to the music. He knew they didn't need words right now. He pulled up to the curb in front of her house, came around the car and opened her door. Sliding his hand to her waist he walked her up the front walk and stepped onto the porch with her. It was still well before eleven, at least ten to fifteen minutes, but some inner sense told him that her father was already at the window watching and waiting.

He turned her to face him before she could reach the doorknob; his hands cupped her face tilting it as he lowered his lips gently to hers in a long, slow, lingering, sweet kiss. Knowing the eyes of her father were on them, he then moved his lips to her throat over the mark he'd left, before pulling back. "Goodnight, Rabbit." He said pleasantly.

She didn't remember afterward if she had said goodnight. She didn't remember opening the door, or stepping into the house. What she did remember was her father standing in the foyer by the stairs and frowning. She was not sure when Karen got there, or if she'd been there all along. She heard her father's voice as she moved up the stairs.

"Sarah, what's that on your neck?"

Sarah placed a hand up; covering the place Jerry had spent so much time on, it hurt when she touched it, "On my neck?" Her eyes opened wide, and she looked at her father with guilt. Behind her father she saw the mirror, and in the mirror her reflection showing the mark that was so dark on her creamy skin. "Oh no," she groaned.

Robert took a step forward, thinking of going outside and beating the boy to a bloody pulp, when his rib received an elbow from his wife. She shook her head, and he glowered at her and then at Sarah. "Upstairs, young lady…" He growled at his wife as he slapped his news paper against the open palm of his hand. "Times like this I wish I still had my shotgun! Teach that puppy to bite my daughter… "

"Robert," Karen grimaced.

"I mean it," he snapped. "And it will be a cold day in hell that she goes out with him again."

"Robert, let her be!" Commanded his wife standing up for the girl.

Sarah let a little cry escape as she raced up the stairs and ran to the safety of her bedroom. Looking at the mark on her throat she let out another cry. "How the hell did that happen?" She knew how, she even knew when. But she was too upset to acknowledge the facts. "Oh why… now what am I going to do…everyone's going to see this… everyone's going to know… Oh I can hear Marcy now!" she collapsed on her bed and wondered if she could wish herself dead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

He should have just driven way. He should have gone home. He should have left well enough alone. He had pulled away from the curb and less than a block away he dissolved the car, his glamour, and took the owl form. He was on the limb of the tree before the girl reached her room. He watched with knowing eyes as she stood staring at the reflection of the mark on her throat. Her fingers had trembled as she traced the bruise. All she saw was the bruising of mortal skin, what she could not see was the spiritual indelible mark that would reach to her very soul. The owl twitched, she was marked and the entire mystical realm would learn of it once he was ready. If he were ever ready.

He watched her collapse on the bed; fretting and fussing over mundane issues. Still he could hear her fevered brain; part of it was beginning to explore the excitement he was offering her. Watching as her fingers moved over the throat, and then the other hand moving over her breast. She sat up on the bed, breathing slightly raggedly and blushing at the memory of his hand on her. The owl knew, she was ripening and soon she'd be ready for more suggestive play than a mere cupping of her breast. The owl watched and wondered how it was she could be so oblivious of his presences when he was only too acutely aware of hers.

The eyes of the owl, accustomed to the night, focused with feral intensity on the girl. Watching as she began to explore her voluptuous curves. Her reactions pleased and troubled him at the same instant. Her innocents was a two edged sword, striking both of them. Fear and longing were both showing in her beautiful green eyes. For now, he sighed in owl form, they would have to remain present in those orbs. Jareth watched like a peeping tom, as the girl disrobed before retiring to her bath to change into her night attire. She had unfastened the buttons and her chest was as exposed as it had been in his imagined vision. The owl nearly fell off its perch; it was a quick flutter of wings that saved his bacon. He deemed it a minor miracle that she was unaware of him on his perch and he stilled to prevent his detection.

Sarah returned from the bath dressed in a long nightgown. It was not revealing, nor was it form fitting, and yet it appealed to the Fae in Owl form on the limb even more than the sugary white confection he'd dressed her in for the ball he'd thrown her. He watched her brush her hair, apply some cream to the bruised place on her neck, and climb into her bed. He did not leave his perch until she turned off her bed side lamp. Only then did he take to wing and return to the Tudor.

--

Jareth paused in the garden looked at the gnome, and smiled wickedly. "Hello Higgle," he said aloud. He could swear he heard a gruff answer, but knew it was not possible. Patting the resin imprisoned gardener, he moved to the house where the servants were waiting to wait on him, hand and foot. He moved to the well appointed and very comfortable parlor. Here he lounged on one of the sofas, thinking on his evening. He could not get the taste of Sarah off his mind or out of his mouth.

Shortly after midnight Tom and Paul magically appeared in the parlor. Tom moved toward the King first. "There was a disturbance in the fabric of magic…"

"A summons," Jareth explained before more of the question had been asked; "Dealt with as quickly as possible."

Paul looked worried. "Freezing time is a dangerous habit you've got, Sire."

Jareth looked quizzically at the younger Fae, "I don't see it that way." He lowered his long legs from the sofa and stood. "It is a tool that is used very sparingly."

"Using it at all, when you're supposed to be in the Goblin Realms is… chancy." Paul offered by means of explaining his reservations. "Should the High King learn of these disturbances…"

"Who is going to inform him;" Challenged the Goblin King darkly as he tapped his riding crop to his boot. "Most underlings Fae present in this world would have frozen just as the mortals had."

"My words are not meant to incite you to anger," Paul cautioned. "Those of us who came here with you are loyal, and we support your campaign." He moved closer slowly. "Still you must take care, Sire. It would not due to have the High Court get wind of this."

The tapping on the boot ceased, and the man with the crop in his hand raised it to his lips and thought. "You are right, I must proceed with care." He looked at Paul benignly. "Summons are far and few these days, however when one comes, I am forsworn to answer."

"If you could find a way to excuse your absences…" Paul suggested. "It would be less dangerous to your efforts than freezing time."

Tom took a seat in one of the large side chairs, draping his leg over the arm. "Paul has a point, Jareth." He stated firmly. "Freezing and reordering time could draw unwanted attention."

"I'm aware," Jareth sighed heavily. "I hesitated to use it, but it was an emergency. If it had happened during dinner I could have excused my self to the rest room. Hopefully, no other higher level Fae's were on this side of the Fairy Mists." He motioned Paul to be seated, "I understand you are seeing one of the girls who find it a delight to torment my Sarah."

"Laura Davis," Paul said with a grimace. "Pretty face, good body, dark soul."

"Can you control her?" Jareth questioned.

"Not well," Paul admitted. "I do fine when I'm in her presence, however…" he cleared his throat. "Marcy Daniels has far more sway than I."

Jareth turned to Tom, "How is it this mortal girl wheals so much power? I sense no magic in her."

Tom snickered, "I assure you what she uses is not magical. It's intimidation, and fear." He poured himself a brandy from the side table. "Becky gave me a run down on the history of Marcy Daniels." He poured a snifter for the King and one for Paul as well. Handing the libation to the others he continued. "The Daniels girl is spoiled she knows how to use her beauty to get what she wants. She knows the power of popularity among mortals."

Paul sipped his brandy lightly. "My young lady has told me that she would blindly follow what ever Marcy tells her to do. She would dump me in a heart beat if Marcy ordered her to do so, without so much as a second thought."

"What a pity," Jareth sighed. "That David Merck is not of the Fae…"

"David has no power to wheal," Tom cautioned. "He is not what Marcy has her eyes set upon. What Marcy thinks she wants is you…or rather Jerry King."

"I'm not interested," Jareth said firmly. "We are here for one purpose alone."

"The humiliation of Sarah," Tom snickered.

Jareth didn't agree, nor did he disagree, but within his own troubled mind a new plan had begun to form. "We need Marcy to do as we want her to do… and chasing the rabbit into to foxes den has to be done delicately. When the time comes for the girl to be humiliated, it will be by my hand and no other."

Tom looked at his long time friend and companion. "Jareth, are you having second thoughts?"

"No," denied the Fae King; "Merely having thoughts on how to refine this game."

Tom placed his drink down. "And your plan to have this Halloween fete?"

Jareth tapped his boot once more. "That goes forward, by the end of this week all will be in place."

Paul cleared his throat; both of the other Fae looked at him. "I don't mean to throw cold water on your plans, Sire. But, pray tell, how do you intend to throw to this party? If parents learn that there's going to be an unchaperoned party… they will not allow their children to come…" Paul placed one hand behind his back as he took a more casual stance. "Even in this modern age, parents are parents…"

Tom snickered, "The boy has a point Jareth."

"Ah but that's if it's a known party," Jareth said cunningly. "I suggest you plan on giving the impression of attending the approved of gala held at the school," his smile turned wicked. "When you get your dates tell them that the plan has been changed, don't say a word about it until you are well out of the hearing of the protective parents…and then instead of going to the school, come here."

Tom raised a brow, thinking on the plan. "It could work… we spread the word among the boys… of course there will be crashers who hear of the party. Are you prepared for them?"

"All will be welcomed," Jareth assured him. "My staff will know exactly how to keep things under control. Or rather allow only the chaos that I desire."

Paul shrugged, "It could work," he sighed at last.

Tom nodded, "It just means our King will have to be content and not rock the boat."

"Rock the boat?" Jareth frowned.

"Don't do anything to upset your little rabbit's parents;" Cautioned Tom.

Jareth schooled his face, but his thoughts went to the bruise on the long swan like neck of a dark haired young beauty with glorious eyes of green.

--

Sarah looked at the mark after her shower, if anything it was even a shade darker purple than it had been last night. She grimaced as she dabbed a bit of concealing makeup over it. Finding it did little more than make it look pasty, she pulled her hair forward and vowed to ware it forward until the mark faded.

Karen tapped at her door and popped her head in. "Are you alright?"

Sarah shrugged. "With the exception of wanting to die of embarrassment, I'm fine."

The serious look on Karen's face faded, replaced by a smile. "Die? How dramatic," she entered the room to sit on Sarah's bed, facing the girl at the vanity. "It's just a hicky Sarah, not the end of the world."

"Just a hicky?" The teen pulled back her hair, "Karen, have you seen the size of this thing?"

Leaning forward Karen eyed the bruise with a strange bit of admiration. "Nice job," she teased. When Sarah dropped her hair to stare at the woman she laughed. "Oh come on Sarah, you're not the first girl to receive a love bite, and you won't be the last."

Sarah frowned, "Daddy is so disappointed in me," she whimpered pitifully.

"Daddy has forgotten that I was covered in love bites," Karen patted her stepdaughter's hand. "And all of his making, so I reminded him of that little fact after you went up to bed."

"Daddy gave you a hicky?" Sarah didn't completely believe this.

Karen giggled, sounding much younger than she was. "Honey I wore scarves for weeks after the first one." She pointed to a place near the base of her throat. "See this; this is your dad's favorite place to mark his territory."

Sarah winced. "Daddy?"

"Daddy," Karen assured her. "He's not an old fuddy duddy, Sarah. He's still quite the man." Her voice rumbled low and suggestive.

A shudder ran through Sarah. "More information than a daughter needs to know," she groaned grossed out.

Karen shrugged. "Honey, your dad is human… and he's not dead."

Sarah's mouth dropped. "I don't think we're supposed to be talking about things like this."

"Why not;" Karen challenged. "Where is it written that stepparents and their stepchild can not talk about life?" It had never occurred to Sarah that her father and Karen had been maintaining an intimate life, Karen saw this, and shook her head. "Sarah, Toby didn't spring from a cabbage patch you know."

Both females began to giggle and then outright laugh. It was Karen who paused hearing something. She moved to the window and looked out toward the curb. "Are you expecting company?"

Sarah shook her head.

Karen moved toward the door and then down the stairs just as the front door bell sounded. She schooled her face, with difficulty and opened the door. "Yes?"

Jerry King was dressed as if he'd just been to church, he looked formal and serious. "Mrs. Williams, might I have a word with Mr. Williams?"

"Karen who's at the door," Robert called from his den.

"Jerry King, to see you, Robert," Karen opened a path for the boy to enter. "He is in his den, just around that corner."

"Thank you," Jerry said before going toward the den keeping his eyes focused on the hall before him. He knew Sarah was at the top of the stairs looking down, but ignored her for the present. Robert was standing grimly at the door of the den. Jerry addressed him formally; "Mr. Williams might we have a word?"

Robert mildly surprised at the boys appearance and his demeanor and self control, bid him enter the den. He firmly shut the door, not want wife or daughter to interact on this occasion. "You have something to say, young man?" He took a seat behind his desk, wanting to let the boy know who was master of this room.

Jerry faced the angry father, "I do," he nodded. "My father always says a man should own up to his mistakes and miscalculations. I am here to do just that." He placed his hands behind his back, held his head high and faced the father fearlessly. "Last night I allowed myself to get a bit carried away… I left a bit of a love bite on Sarah's neck."

"A bit," Robert interrupted. "Is that what you call it?"

Jerry smirked not smart-alecky but a bit arrogantly; "Alright, more than a bit." His voice was calm, pleasant and most pleased with himself. "I realize that Sarah is younger than I and very innocent… and I should have been much more careful…I should not have gotten so carried away."

"Are you telling me you regret marking her?" Robert asked guardedly.

The younger man looked at him in mock surprise. "Not at all," he cocked his head to one side in a sly angle. "I'm sorry that I left her to explain it to you… I should have come in and faced the music last night."

Robert, seated behind his desk, leaned back in his leather chair to stare at the young man before him. "Come again?"

Jerry sighed raggedly. "I know she's young, and she's been very sheltered, and I'm her first real boy friend…."

"Her boyfriend;" Robert interrupted again. "What give you the right to call yourself that?"

Jerry looked at the man questioning him; he had to admit he admired the father for wanting to protect the girl. "I'm not sure it's a right, more a privilege." Jerry stated firmly. "Sarah is very special; she's the only girl I've met here that I care to spend time with." He smiled wistfully. "There fore I should have been more restrained with her last night."

Robert grimaced. "More restrained? Have you any idea of whom you're speaking to?"

"Damn," Jerry cussed lightly. "That did sound bad, didn't it?"

"Should I be more worried and vexed than I am?" Robert asked. "Did something more happen?"

"Just kissing and a love bite," Jerry assured the worried father. "That's all."

"That's all," Robert repeated sarcastically; "Isn't that enough?" He stood up, hands to his hips to show dominance. "You take my daughter out for pizza and she comes back bruised. You seem to think that it's nothing at all to… abuse a girl as delicate as Sarah."

'Delicate?' Jareth thought to himself. 'Does this man know her at all?' He looked at the man with a face that was not contrite in the least. "True be told, I'm not sorry at all about marking her as mine. I want everyone to know she's my girl." He looked at the man without flinching. "Man to man," he said challengingly. "Are you telling me you never left a love bite on a special lady?"

Robert blinked, taken aback by the boy's saucy attitude and forwardness. "That's none of your business."

"I see, you did… and I'll bet you didn't have to run the gauntlet of some outraged father." Jerry said pleasantly.

Robert thought of Karen, who had covered bite after bite on a tender throat. "What's your point?"

"I should have come to you last night and confessed my weakness for Sarah's throat." Jerry stated.

"Are you telling me this won't happen again?" Robert asked taking his seat once more.

"No," Jerry said firmly. "I'm saying I know she's young and I'm not going to push for more than her kisses and her throat… for now."

Robert snorted, "Is that supposed to give me some kind of reassurance?"

The English boy shrugged. "It's the best I can do."

Robert smiled, "I see."

"I understand if you feel a reservation." Jerry continued. "I am older than Sarah, and I've been something of a rover…"

"You are older and more experienced that she is," Robert agreed. "And that is a reservation I have."

"Yes, I was sure it would be." Jerry moved toward the desk, he placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "I'm very fond of Sarah, and I want to see her... I would prefer to do so with your permission. I don't think Sarah's the kind of girl who'd like to do something behind her father's back."

Robert sighed. "If I agree to allow you to see Sarah," he stated firmly, knowing that he was fighting a loosing battle. "There will be rules and I expect you to observe them. Including restraining yourself ."

"Agreed," Jerry said standing straight up once more. "I will do my best to restrain my inclinations to devouring Sarah."

Robert mused lightly. "Your father must be quite the man; I'd like to meet him."

"I will arrange it," Jerry said agreeably. "Soon as he has some free time, he's in the middle of a merger just now."

"I know how grilling that can be," Robert pointed to papers in a folder, "From the legal end of the transactions." He stood up from the desk, looking at the younger man. "I expect you to obey my rules, young man."

"I will do my best," Jerry agreed. "Now, with your permission, I'd like a word with Sarah."

Robert nodded and escorted the younger man out of the den. "Sarah," He called out. His daughter came into the foyer. "Jerry here would like to talk to you."

Jerry held a hand out to the girl, once her hand was in his he led her toward the front porch. They took seat on the steps, he was sure the parents were watching from the window. "Let's see," his hand moved her hair, "Damn I had no idea you bruised so easily." His thumb traced the outline of the mark. "I'll be more careful in future."

"Why is it you look so pleased?" She fussed.

"No one can question where that came from, now can they?" He asked in return. "Much better than rumors flying about, as I'm sure there would have been had we gone to the Shack."

Sarah looked at him, "I see, and the talk in my Dad's den?"

Jerry winked, "Damage control, rabbit." His hand moved from her throat, down her back and pulled her waist, forcing her to move closer.

"Damage control?" she asked. "How are you going to control the damage this is going to do to my reputation at school," she pointed to her throat.

"Leave that to me, after study hall tomorrow morning, no one will question where the mark came from or your precious rep." He flexed his fingers on her waist. "You're my girl, Rabbit, and the entire school is going to know it."

"You're crazy," she whispered.

"About you Rabbit." He agreed.

Sarah turned to look at him. "Am I your girl?"

"Do you doubt it?" He replied, looking into her eyes with something playing just behind the blue eyes. "I told you… I get what I want."

Sarah closed her eyes, leaning into him. "I hope you know what you're doing."

'So do I, Rabbit, so do I,' he thought as he too closed his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**

Sarah noticed that Becky was less than talkative on the trip to school. She wondered if the red haired girl were angry with her for some reason. However something in the way the girl was carrying herself told Sarah to leave it alone. She sighed, looked out the window and thought about what would most likely happen once she was in the study hall. She knew that the news of the dark mark on her throat was going to be passed about, no matter how hard she tried to cover it up.

Becky parked the VW in the same spot she used everyday; she turned to Sarah before turning off the engine. "Is everything okay with you?"

Sarah looked at her in surprise. "I think so, why?"

Turning the key to the off position, Becky frowned. "Marcy," was all she could reply.

Sarah cleared her throat, and when Becky turned to look at her, she pulled back the curtain of her hair giving the other a glimpse of the bruise. Becky stared, and then broke into a wide grin. "Nice." She crowed, as she unlocked her belt and door. "And I was worried about that cow telling tales."

"It's going to be a long day," warned Sarah alighting from the little car.

Becky walked at her side up the walk way. "Did your parents freak? Mine did the first time I came home sporting a hicky."

Sarah balanced, "Daddy freaked, Karen glowed proudly, like I had come of age." Becky laughed as they entered the school. "I'll see you at history," Sarah waved to her friend and made her way through the crowded hall to the study hall. She noticed a large group of girls gathered around Marcy who was telling some kind of secret story. She ignored Marcy's and the others' looks of pity, sure that in an hour the looks would be directed toward Marcy.

Sarah took her seat in the back of the study hall aware of the whispers, but sat quietly reading the days' history lesson. One of the girls in the front of the room had noticed the mark on her neck. The whispers and gossip began. Groups of girls gathered, there were pointing fingers and stares. One of the boys from the jock group moved over to where Sarah was seated. He'd heard the rumor Marcy was passing about, that Sarah had been dumped on Saturday night. Now That Sarah had a love bite he wanted to see for himself just how wild the dumped girl had gotten.

"So…" he sat down and leaned toward her. "I hear you've got a hunting trophy. Are ya looking for more?"

Sarah gave him the cold shoulder as well as an icy stare.

The jock snickered. "No reason to be shy about it baby," he crooned to her. "I know a lot of guys who'd be happy to sink their teeth into you."

"Then they'd end up loosing every one of them," a distinctive voice declared harshly.

Sarah looked up; Jerry was standing looking at the jock with scorn and contempt. The jock looked at Jerry with surprise. "I heard you dumped her," he stammered getting out of the desk quickly. He began to back away.

Jerry moved into the vacated seat. "You heard wrong," he declared placing his arm over the back edge of Sarah's seat backing. "No one got dumped, no one is getting dumped, and no one is interested in your offer."

"Man, I didn't mean anything by it," the jock backed away quickly, and rejoined his buddies.

Jerry cast a lazy look over at Sarah, "Good morning Rabbit."

Sarah closed her eyes, shook her head before quietly returning to her text book, "Good morning to you too, Mr. Fox." Leaning over her shoulder he read the same passage she was using a pencil to follow. Sarah whispered. "People are already talking, Jerry."

"Let them," his hand went to the book and turned the page. "We have noting to hide."

Sarah looked at his profile, "I see; more damage control?"

"That's right," he pointed to the next passage of the text, and quietly asked her questions about the chapter. By the time the bell rang at the end of the first period, Sarah and Jerry were in the middle of a debate that proved to be so lively others around them were joining in. She rose from her seat as usual, expecting him to stay as he often did. He rose as well. "I'm going to walk you to history; it's on my way to my next class." He announced loud enough for one and all to hear.

Sarah knew she would not see him the rest of the day as their classes were at opposite ends of the school. When they reached the history classroom, she was surprised when he touched her face and told her he'd see her later. She entered the class room, moved to her assigned seat beside Becky and sat down.

Becky leaned over and whispered. "Boy you should hear the two different versions of Saturday night!"

Sarah whispered back, "Two versions?"

Becky nodded and whispered again. "I bet the truth is somewhere in between."

"It usually is," Sarah said firmly. Becky pulled their copy of notes out and they both settled into the class routine.

--

Marcy looked at Laura; "I don't believe it!" she scoffed loudly. "Little Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes sporting a love bite? You must be mistaken."

Laura shook her head vehemently. "If I'm lying, I'm dying."

"Well," Marcy's eyes glinted with hardness. "I guess she's just a cheap little tramp just like her mother." The group of girls surrounding her laughed at the malicious comments that followed.

--

Several times during the day Sarah wished she were somewhere else, or someone else. If it were not girls snickering, it was boys making lewd suggestions. Even her lunch was not peaceful. There were still rumors going about of her having been dumped Saturday night. Now there were also rumors about her being a bit of an easy tramp. She ate her lunch alone at the table she always sat at. But this time she could feel eyes from all over the room gawking at her. The rest of the day had been more of the same.

She was on her way out of the school to head to the parking lot when she heard the snickers behind her and the jeering. A voice cutting through the jeers halted her out side the building.

"So Sweet Sarah is really Slut Sarah!" Marcy declared loudly. "Who's the loser who gave you the Hicky?"

Sarah froze, not wanting to turn around and deal with the spiteful girl. She took another step ignoring the girl.

"I'm talking to you, slut!" Marcy growled. "What loser did you get to give you the Hicky, we all want to know so we can avoid him." There was more nasty laughter behind her.

"That loser would be me," a voice with a distinctive English clip to it sounded.

Sarah could hear the sounds of Cuban heels as they came closer to where she was standing. She felt a hand take hold of her wrist.

"That's impossible," Marcy gasped. "You dumped her on Saturday night."

Amused by the girl's decorations, Jerry slid his hand over Sarah's arm and felt her shiver. "Did I?" He scoffed; "Really?" He turned, gripped Sarah's hand and walked with her to the parking lot leaving Marcy looking and feeling a fool. He whispered to the girl his hand was touching. "Just keep walking, don't look back."

"I don't think I could if I wanted to," she confessed quietly.

Jerry's hand tightened over hers, "I'm right here, Rabbit."

When they reached the lot, they found Tom and Becky standing together laughing and conversing good naturedly. Jerry called over as they approached. "Hey Red," he called to Becky. "How about a trade?"

"What ya got to offer?" Becky teased.

"You get old Tom, and I get Sarah." Jerry said loud enough for the stander bys to hear. Becky practically fell down laughing, while Tom pretended to be insulted. "You take Tom home and let me take Sarah."

"She's all yours," Becky said knowing that Jerry was making it clear to everyone in the school that Sarah was his girl. It would stop the gossips that were spreading stories of how Sarah got the mark on her throat.

"Sarah," Jerry opened the passenger's door on his TR6. Looking over at Becky, Sarah decided it was not worth fighting about. Seeing the crowd that had gathered at the edge of the parking lot cinched her choice of action. She smiled up at Jerry, and slid into the car. He knew what she was doing and winked at her as he closed the door. Jerry called over to the other couple. "See you later," as he moved around the front of the car and took the driver's seat. He put on dark glasses gunned the engine and pealed rubber as he pulled out of the lot.

"Show off," Tom muttered as he got into Becky's car. "I hope you don't mind this, he wanted to stop the gossips. We heard the strangest versions of Saturday night, you wouldn't believe it."

Becky started her little VW, "I would, and I'd heard stories all day too." She sounded irritated and annoyed. "They say the most hateful things," she complained; "All because Sarah's mom is an actress. Like they all have a right to judge." As she passed Marcy and her group of cronies Becky gave and exasperated huff. "I'll lay odds it was Marcy who started not only the gossip but the insults to Sarah's mother as well."

Tom went silent, looking at her with eyes far more mature than eighteen years. He remained silent as she pulled out of the lot, only a few blocks later did he speak. "Becky, do you have to rush home?"

"No," she answered before taking at look at him. "Why?"

"I just thought it would be nice to take a walk in the park… you know, before the weather turns." He suggested softly.

"That's a lovely idea," she agreed taking the road that would lead to the park. "I'd love to Tom."

--

Jerry drove with a smile; Sarah looked out the window and frowned. "This is not the way to my house you know."

He glanced at her before turning his attention back to the roadway. "I know…are you in a rush to get home?"

"I didn't say that," she felt the defenses go up.

"Sit back and relax, Rabbit." He suggested with good cheer. "This should put to rest all those silly stories."

"Or create more," she grimaced as he shifted gears and sped up.

"Only if I make the mistake of leaving marks," he teased. "And I promised your father I would be much more careful." Sarah groaned, hid her face in her hands and turned so he could not see her face. Jerry snickered.

Sarah looked out the window, "Where are you taking me?"

"To our place," he said firmly.

"We have a place?" she asked.

Cocking a brow he glanced at her as if she were cutting him to the quick. "How quickly they forget." He mocked.

Sarah looked about, "The sawmill road," she whispered. "You're taking me up to the look out."

"Yes, ma'am," he said firmly.

"Isn't this a private road?" She fussed.

"Nope, I checked." He stated casually. "It's actually part of a public road way… just not very used."

"Why don't I trust you," she questioned.

"Because you're a rabbit, and I'm a fox." He teased.

"Good point," she sighed.

At the top of the rise he pulled off the road onto what had once been a graveled shoulder or more of a parking pad. He turned off he engine turned in his seat and smiled at her while putting his hand to the top of her seat.

"And what do you think you're going to do now?" She pulled against the door, as far as she could.

He snickered, reached behind the seat and lifted up a portable tape player. "Now what you're thinking I'm thinking of doing," he teased exiting the car. "Come on," he called as he walked a short distance to were there was a sawed off stump of a tree.

Sarah left her text books on the seat and followed him. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

Jerry set the tape player on the stump and turned it on, adjusted the volume before turning to her. "Come here Rabbit," he crooked his finger in the air. Music poured from the machine, one of the songs that were currently popular. He watched her cautious approach with an amused eye. "Dance for me," he motioned with one hand in an authoritative manner.

"What?" She halted in her steps, glaring at him. "You want me to do what?"

"Dance," he commanded again.

"I don't think so, pal." She snapped.

Jerry pinched the bridge of his nose, "Sarah I need to see how you move."

"Why?" She demanded hotly.

Lowering his hand, it was his turn to stare. "As a couple we should look like we fit when we dance… I can't do that if I don't know how you move." He paused, and then blinked. "You do dance don't you?"

"Of course I dance," she retorted sharply. "My mother and my father both insisted on my taking dance classes."

"I'm not talking about toe dancing," Jerry said in a voice showing irritation. "I mean," he moved his hip suggestively; "Dance." Taking a step toward her he snapped his fingers.

"I know what you mean," Sarah said tapping a foot on the gravel in annoyance.

Jerry advanced on her, took her hand and sighed heavily. "I need to see you dance." He said firmly. "WE need to practice so we look as if when we move together it's the most natural thing in the world."

"You're twisted," she pulled her hand free. "No one expects us to be… a matched set."

"There you're wrong," he warned. "Marcy and her band of merry little gossips will be about looking to criticizes us every chance she gets."

Sarah dropped her defenses, her shoulders slumped and her face creased with worry. "You're right," she conceded. Another song began to play, one that was a couple of years old but still popular with the young crowd. Feeling self conscious at first, Sarah moved slowly at first. Closing her eyes she found her way into the rhythm, and began to move a bit more freely.

Jareth nearly lost his control on the glamour watching the girl dance for him. He cherished the memory of her dancing in his arms; this was different. That dance had been soft slow and romantic. This was more enticing in a primal and primitive way, far more sensual. He had known she was too young before, but in one short year she'd begun to ripen like a tender young peach. He watched her move, lost in her own fantasy in her mind; the look on her face filled him with strange longing. With a smile he moved forward when the song changed again, and he began to dance with her, matching his movements to hers.

--

The county patrol car was making a sweep of the area, and slowed down as it came past the pair dancing on the gravel. The older officer smiled and waved his driver on. "I don't think we need to worry about a pair of kids dancing." He said lightly. "I doubt they'd be trouble makers."

"Why do you say that?" The driver asked.

"Did you see that kid's car? It's a TR6, classic!" He jotted down a note and tossed the report pad to the dash. "That kid is from a moneyed family… hardly a hooligan."

--

Sarah was enjoying dancing with Jerry, she smiled at him broadly. When the last song on the tape began her smile faded, it was much slower tune. There had only been one person she'd ever slow danced with, and she didn't want to bring up that memory. Not now, maybe not ever. Jerry took her hand, slipped his hand to her waist and moved closer. Sarah went porker straight and stiff.

"Relax rabbit," he crooned. "This won't hurt, I promise."

Sarah didn't understand why, but she was beginning to panic. Her heart was pounding, and she felt as if there were unseen eyes all about watching her. And she could have sworn she hear scoffing and snickering. She pulled her hands free, turned and blindly ran back to the car where she stood with her face buried in her hands.

Jerry moved behind her, placed a hand to her shoulder. "Rabbit," he said softly. "What is it? Why did you run?"

"I don't know," She said refusing to allow the memory to form. "I don't know."

Turning her, he pulled her softly into his arms. "It's alright," he soothed.

"I don't know why I panicked just now." She confessed with her face on his chest.

"We've got time," he mused. "The Halloween dance is not for a few weeks, and by the time it comes round we'll be ready to go public."

Sarah looked up at him, something in his eyes worried her, but she kept it to herself.

--

Tom was seated in the parlor of the Tudor awaiting Jerry when he arrived. Swiftly the King dropped the glamour, reverting to the Fae form that was truly his own. He looked at the dark haired companion and questioned his grim face. "What's wrong with you?"

"Guilty conscience," Tom said pouring his second brandy. "Something I've never experienced before… Hell, I didn't even know I was equipped with one."

"One what?" Jareth asked taking a seat.

"Conscience," Tom downed his brandy in one swift gulp. "I'm not at all sure I like it." He rose from his seat to pace like a caged cat.

Jareth snickered cruelly toward his cohort. "You haven't done anything…yet."

Tom glared at the Fae King, "Jareth, these girls… these mortal girls are…" he could not express what he was feeling, and that disturbed him.

"Intoxicating?" Jareth offered, when Tom nodded curtly, Jareth sighed. "I should have warned you."

"I've known mortals before," Tom defended himself from an unspoken attack on his character. His ego was bruised and he was feeling peckish.

Jareth watched as the Fae companion poured yet another brandy. "You've known mortal women, fully grown and experienced. This is the first time you've dealt with a mortal female coming into her own."

"I see now why the High King has issued orders of restraint," Tom collapsed back into a seat. "Do you know what I did this afternoon? I went for a stroll… a stroll!"

Jareth could only imagine his friend of many years walking side by side with the girl with long red curls. "Becky?"

Tom sipped his brandy, "Becky," he nodded before thinking on the girl. "She's going to hate me when she discovers how I've deceived her."

Jareth reached out his hand, the riding crop appeared and he began to tap his boot. "You said something the other day, about extending the wager," he changed the subject, wanting to get Tom back on track.

Thinking back, Tom recalled the conversation. "As I recall you said it was not possible."

"I may have been mistaken…" Jareth philosophized. "Perhaps it's time the King made an appearance in the girl's reality."

"How?" Thomas asked sharply. "You know she's not going to wish someone away," he reminded the King.

"Is she the only peckish teen?" Jareth challenged. "No, but I'm sure… with a little prodding one of the foolish mortals will gladly wish away another child."

Thomas found himself thinking thoughts that were so foreign to him he cringed. "Sire, I suggest you keep that as a last resort." He quickly buried the guilt in yet another brandy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12. **

Sarah moved through her collection of movie and stage costumes her mother had given her over the last few years. Wanting her Halloween costume to be unique and easy to dance in was making her choices difficult. Karen sat on an old chest watching the girl discard costume after costume.

"Are you looking to do a theme?" Karen asked at last, watching yet another wonderful costume be passed over. "Sarah, be careful with that."

The teen paused, wanting to rip to shreds the fabric in her hands; "Theme? No, no theme," she said absently.

Patting the wide top of the chest, Karen called Sarah over to her. "Come sit down for a moment." She waited until the frustrated girl was seated before she spoke. "Sarah, what do you want to go as?"

"The invisible girl," mused Sarah still holding a costume of her mother's.

Karen shrugged, "What is Jerry going as?"

"I don't know," Sarah admitted. "I don't know if he's even going."

"Aren't you going together?" Karen seemed surprised.

"I don't know," Sarah admitted again feeling a bit out of sorts. "He's been all mysterious about the dance… and its one week away!"

"Boys," sighed Karen exasperatedly. She looked at Sarah thoughtfully. "So you're planning on going to the dance with or without him, is that it?"

"Yeah," Sarah grimaced.

"Very bold move," Karen said in an approving tone. "Now let's talk costumes, what is it you are trying for?"

"I don't know…" she pointed to the hanging garments. "I've got more costumes than any other kid I know and I can't think of a thing to wear."

"Ok, let's go about this differently," Karen suggested softly. "If you could go as anyone who would it be?"

Sarah thought for a moment then said, "Princess Leia Organa from Star Wars."

"Strong persona," noted Karen as she slid off the chest. "Okay, let's build…" she walked to the costumes and pulled three separate items, "First movie or last?"

"First," Sarah sighed watching her stepmother begin to organize the items needed.

--

Thomas looked at the elaborate plans for the evening as Jareth had them set down. "Spin the Bottle?" He looked over at the pacing King. "What is Spin the Bottle?"

"A game," Jareth murmured as he paced thinking and plotting.

"I understood that, but how is it played?" Thomas frowned now as he watched his friend pace. "Must you do that?"

Jareth snapped his crop on his boot, ignoring the other's irritation. "It's best to have everyone playing sitting on the floor. All players sit in a circle. After determining who goes first, that player places a bottle, empty is preferable, but full works too, on its side in the middle of the circle, and gives it a spin. Whoever the bottle neck points to, or closest to must reward the spinner with a kiss or something else, like say take a swing off the bottle or remove an article of clothes. In the event that player has lost all his or her clothes already, that player must perform a "favor" for the spinner." Jareth continued to pace. "As I understand it, there are a few possible variations on the game. Rather than proceeding in a clockwise manner, the person who last had the bottle point to them may spin next. This game can be combined with other classic games, such as Truth or Dare, wherein the person the bottle points to is asked the question, or given a dare by the spinner."

Thomas listened suspiciously and as Jareth talked on he smirked. "What happens if the bottle points between two people?"

The Goblin King paused in his pacing; "As I've read the rules there are some possible outcomes: Same player spins again. Both indicated players lose an article of clothes, or whatever the stakes are at the time. Then again there's the all players lose an article or what ever." He looked over at Thomas who was snickering as if he'd just heard a dirty story that tickled his fancy.

"These mortals, what will they come up with next?" Thomas looked over at Jareth. "What rules do you intend to play by?"

"My own Thomas, my own;" Jareth assured him icily.

Thomas set the page back on the desk. "Jareth what if the bottle is being spun by a girl, and lands on another girl?"

"Depends on the crowd playing I've read, it appears some young bucks are rather turned on by seeing two girls kiss each other." Jareth informed the other Fae.

"Ah the taboos and all," Thomas said lightly.

"Indeed," Jareth said pacing again. "We'll have to wait until we see who assembles for the playing of the game."

"You sure you can get Sarah to play?" Thomas asked looking over other arrangements being made.

"If not me, Marcy;" Jareth proclaimed. "You think Sarah will allow her to sit in a circle with me without her? No, Sarah will join if only to keep an eye on things. She's got a heroine's complex."

--

Karen came into Sarah's room as she was fixing her hair; in her hands were a pair of white kidd boots. "Don't you ever tell your father where you got these from," she warned handing the boots over.

"Karen, are these yours?" Sarah asked smiling at her stepmother.

"Long ago, I was quite the fashion plate," Karen said saucily. She took a seat on the bed. "I talked to Becky's mom, and she's very happy to have you stay overnight. But I want you to remember Sarah, we expect you to follow the rules."

"The dance is over at eleven, and we'll be going straight back to Becky's from there." She heard her father call up that it was time to go. "Okay, I'm ready." She called back down to him. "Good night Karen, thanks for your help."

"Call if you need anything, and I mean anything." Karen said as they walked down the stairs together. "Tom is picking you and Becky up at her house?"

"Yeah," Sarah said with a shrug. "Jerry is most likely doing something with his folks. Today is his birthday, you know."

"Yes," Karen nodded. "You've informed me about a dozen times."

"Well it does explain his not asking me to the dance," Sarah tried to sound convincing.

Karen gave her a hug and sent her with her over night bag out to the car.

--

Becky opened the door, and looked at Sarah with a bit of disappointment. "You're not really wearing that are you?"

"What's wrong with it?" Sarah said as she entered the Reynolds' house.

"It's so… blah." Becky said standing back and looking critically at Sarah. Her own costume was a bit flashier. Becky was decked out in revealing dancer's tights and a set of leg warmers in a shade of hot pink that hurt the eyes to look at. "I'm dressed as a 'Flash Dancer', and you're…"

"Princess Leia Organa from Star Wars." Sarah said defensively. "What's wrong with it?"

Mrs. Reynolds hearing the commotion entered the foyer, "Becky is something wrong?"

Becky pointed to Sarah, "She's wearing that…"

Sarah had met Becky's mother so her mod appearance didn't shock the girl this time. "Hello Mrs. Reynolds."

Carrie Reynolds was an older version of Becky. She was about the same age as Linda, and like Linda had still maintained her figure. There the comparison ended, while Linda was a clothes horse, it was obvious that Carrie was a free spirit, much like her daughter. She was dressed in a long granny gown from the sixties she'd found in a vintage shop and her feet were bare. "It's a nice costume," Carrie said trying to sooth Sarah. "But I see what Becky is saying. It's… mundane."

"It's Si-fi, it can't be mundane." Sarah defended her choice of costume.

Carrie held up a hand, "How many Princess Leia Organa from Star Wars do you think will be there?"

Sarah blinked, "I guess a few."

Carrie waved the girls to follow her up the stairs to the master bedroom. She ordered her daughter to put Sarah's overnight bag in her room and join them in the master suite. She motioned Sarah to sit on the bed. "When Kenneth and I were first married," she said opening the closet widely. "He was in the service, that first year he was stationed over in Japan. What a wonderful time we had." She smirked at a memory while moving though the garments. "I got all immersed in the culture while we lived there." She pulled out a long red kimono. "How would you like to go as Madam Butterfly instead of Princess Leia Organa."

Becky had just entered her mother's room. "Wow! I didn't know you had anything like that in there."

"I've got lots of stuff you don't know about," Carrie boasted. "I'm not a fuddy duddy you know." She motioned Sarah to come toward her, and she held the beautiful silk gown up against her. "I thought you and I were about the same size," she said coyly. "In fact I think this would look better on you than it did me. The red really was not my color, and I had to wear a wig… Gods how I hated that wig."

Sarah shook her head, "I couldn't borrow this," she protested.

"Nonsense," Carrie said handing the dress to her and going back into the closet. "It's just gathering dust in here… much better to be worn out to a party." She pulled the white linen under gown. "I've got the shoes too," Carrie said looking on the upper shelf for something. "And if I'm not mistaken, hair ointments as well." She pulled down a lacquer box with delicate drawings.

Sarah was about to protest again, when Becky pulled her over toward the bed and began to unfasten the Leia costume. "You want her striped all the way down to skin?" she asked her mother.

Carrie looked over at the teens, "Sarah what color undergarments are you wearing?"

"Nude," Sarah said a bit self conscious.

Carrie brought the rest of the items over. "No, her undies with go well with the susoyoke and hadajuban, that's the linen under gown and petticoat. Now let me put it on you, and pay attention so you don't damage it when you take it off later." Carrie worked with skills she'd developed over the years.

Becky snickered. "Mom dresses mannequins at the museum," the teen explained as her mother set the folds just so.

Sarah stood still, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the way she'd been commandeered into changing her garments. Moments later she was standing in front of the mirror as Mrs. Reynolds placed the obi about her. "Oh, Mrs. Reynolds," Sarah said looking at her reflection. "This is beautiful."

"Kenny thought I looked like a Geisha." Carrie said working quietly. "But you really fit the part far better than I ever did." She looked at Becky. "There's a pair of little white socks and the **Okobo. **They are wooden sandals worn by maikos, apprentice gieshas during their apprenticeship." She explained to the girls as she removed the socks and placed them on Sarah's feet. "Try the Okobo, see if you can walk in it." When Sarah moved slowly and carefully, Carrie nodded pleased. "Now the final touches, the Kanzahi hair ornaments." She worked the braids out of Sarah's hair quickly and began to pull the long hair up and twist it stylishly. Placing the long stick like ornaments into the hair carefully; not wishing to graze the girls scalp. "Now makeup," she turned Sarah to face her. "Just a touch of red lipstick will make you look the part."

Sarah looked in the mirror when Carrie finished. "Wow," she said. "No one will be dressed like this."

"Much better," Becky said coming to stand beside her friend and gaze at her reflection in the mirror. "It'll beat the hell out of what ever Marcy comes up with."

"I'm not competing with Marcy," Sarah stated.

"No, but she's competing with you." Becky said raising a hand and pointing to assert the line of reasoning.

Carrie showed Sarah the hidden pockets on the costume and suggested the girls be ready as Tom was due any moment. Just as she'd said that the door bell rang. "I'll let Tom in." She hurried down the stairs and looked back to see if the girls were following her. She wanted to see Tom's reaction, and was glad the girls were taking a moment to grab little purses. She opened the door to find Tom dressed as a 1950's greaser on her door step. "Hello Tom," she greeted him warmly. "The girls will be right down."

Tom looked up as the pair came down the stairs very slow and carefully. His mouth dropped and he stared. "Wow, you girl look fantastic."

Sarah smiled at him, thinking it was too bad that Jerry was not going to see her in this wonderful costume.

Tom moved to take Becky's hands in his and showed appreciation for her costume. "Honey that's quiet a costume," he crowed. Looking over at Sarah, he added. "You look great too."

"Thanks," Sarah said in a sigh, "Maybe I should have opted to stay home."

"No," both Becky and Tom said in unison exchanging glances.

Carrie walked them to the door, "I'll see you kids after the dance, your curfew is midnight."

Sarah looked at Becky as they made their way to Tom's father's sedan; "Midnight? My father always sets eleven as my curfew."

Becky snickered, "Ah but you're not at home tonight… and my mother trusts us."

Tom shook his head, "She trusts you; me she's still on the fence about." He held the doors open for both girls. "Ladies, the night awaits us." Becky sat in the front seat with Tom, while Sarah occupied the back seat. Tom pulled away from the curb and drove a few blocks before taking a turn.

Sarah looked at the scenery, recognizing they were on a different road than what they should be. "Tom, this isn't the way to the High School." She looked at the driver who was smirking with a look of the cat who ate the canary. "Are we picking up someone else?"

"Not exactly," Tom said merrily.

Becky turned in her seat, placed a hand over the back of the seat and gazed at Sarah. "We're not going to the High School," she said with a guilty grin. "We're going to another party, a much better party."

Sarah had not heard of any other party and now was frowning. "What party, where?"

"Jerry's birthday bash," Tom said wickedly. "His folk had to be out of town, and gave him permission to throw his own birthday party."

Sarah looked from Tom to Becky. "I'm not so sure this is a good idea."

Becky waved at her and turned in her seat to face forward. "Oh don't be an old hen, it'll be fine."

"How many people know about this party? Who's chaperoning ?" Sarah questioned.

"Jerry invited a few kids," Tom said. "About twenty or so," he pulled the car toward the last road that would take them to the Tudor. "And his folk have servants, it's not like we're going to be there all alone… although I should have suggested he give the servants the night off."

Becky gave him a playful slap.

Sarah shook her head, "I have such a bad feeling." She moaned.

"Worries a lot, doesn't she?" Tom commented.

Becky shrugged. "She's been sheltered."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

**Chapter 13.**

Tom pulled into the driveway, parking his sedan off to the edge of the circular drive. Steve Wheeler's car was pulling in right behind him, followed by Todd Green's car. Steve came dressed as Robo Cop and his date, Jenny Michaels, had come dressed as a Barbie doll. As Todd came around to help his long-time steady girlfriend out; she opened the door on her own. The pair were dressed out of an old 1940's gangster movie, with Meg holding the fake Tommie guns out of the car before handing one to Todd. Meg rushed over to the car that Sarah was exiting.

"Wow! That's a super costume," she took hold of one silky sleeve. "It feels so real."

"It is real," Sarah said carefully disentangling herself from the eager hands now on her robe. "This belongs to Becky's mom. Please be careful."

Todd, holding a toy Tommy gun, snickered. "Sarah in a robe… how wild is that?"

Tom cleared his throat, and gave Todd a look that would have shattered glass. Todd pulled back and scratched his head with the tip of the gun barrel. Tom escorted both Sarah and Becky to the front door of the Tudor. "You've never been here have you," he asked Sarah.

"No," she admitted. "Are you sure Mr. and Mrs. King won't be upset about this party?" She felt at odds going to the house of her beau without his parents being home. The whole thing smacked of trouble. She moved slowly, still not use to the wooden sandals.

Tom gave her his most innocent look, "Jerry has permission for the party, and the servants are here to keep us more or less in line."

Sarah still didn't feel right, but as they approached the front door she felt trapped and allowed Tom to press the door bell. A uniformed butler answered the door to bid them enter.

Jerry stood on the landing of the staircase leaning over the rail with a sly grin on his face, dressed in a burgundy velvet smoking jacket that was decorated with red satin piping on cuffs and at the collar. Red satin frogs held the jacket closed. Under the jacket he was wearing an elegant shirt made of expensive Irish linen, at the neck he'd tied a silk scarf in the same shade of burgundy that the jacket was in. His straight line black pants and black dress shoes completed his outfit. "Welcome," He said coyly as he strolled casually down the stairs. "So glad you could make it." He took Sarah's hand raising it to his lips and looking at her with teasing eyes. "How lovely you look this evening, my dear." He looked at the man at the door and called to him. "Buchner, send the rest of my guests in if you will." He extended an arm to Sarah, slowly escorting her into the main parlor that was decorated for the party.

Sarah looked at the outfit and his put on manners, and pursed her lips. "David Niven?" He nodded, and she looked more carefully at the smoking jacket. It was handsomely made and obviously not a costume. "That's a very expensive jacket," she commented. "European velvet?"

"This old thing?" he ran his free hand down his lapel. "My father has had it in the back of his closet for ages; I don't think I've seen him wear it more than a dozen times in my entire life." Jerry led Sarah into the room set up for the party. Already there was music playing and servants setting up a refreshment table. "So were you surprised when Tom detoured?"

"A bit, yes," Sarah said carefully, before voicing her uneasiness. "Jerry, are you sure this okay with your parents? I mean having a group of teens in while they're out… and throwing a big party?"

Jerry put a finger to her lips. "Hush," he said curtly. "It's not like we're here alone, look around you," he commanded with a wave of his free hand. "There are servants everywhere, a butler to answer the door, and house maids, too. It's all under control, trust me."

"I don't know," Sarah was still worried, but followed him toward the table where refreshments were set up. "How many people did you ask over," she asked looking at the large spread.

"A few dozen couples or so," he popped a hors'doeurve into his mouth. "It's my birthday, I want to celebrate."

"I wish you had let me know this was happening… I mean," she fretted lightly. "I didn't even have time to get you a present."

Jerry pulled her body up close to his, making her feel very self-conscious about the very suggestive costume she was in. "Why don't you let me pick what my present should be? And you can give it to me later."

"NO," she said firmly.

"Still running, Rabbit," his eyes danced with wicked delight.

"I may not be as worldly as you are, Jerry King," she declared softly. "But I'm not stupid either. I know when a boy is angling for something."

Jerry laughed and pulled her toward an open space of parquet flooring. "Dance with me, Rabbit." Todd and his date joined them on the dance floor, as did Becky and Tom. Jerry would wave now and again as more teens arrived.

Within half an hour the room was filled with costumed teens, and more were still arriving. It was nearly eight-thirty when David Merck arrived with Marcy and Laura with Paul. David looked uncomfortable as they entered the house, more than Sarah had. Tom stopped dancing with Becky, he stared at the four teens entering the parlor. More truthfully, he was staring at Marcy.

"Holy shit," he gasped. Jerry, with Sarah on his arm turned to look. He then exchanged glances with Tom.

Marcy entered the room and every guy with or without a date was now aware of her presence. She was dressed in a scarlet colored satin playboy bunny costume, and was sporting a four inch stiletto heeled, black patent leather pump. She sashayed over to the birthday boy and blew him a kiss over her cuffed hand. "Happy birthday, Jerry," she cooed. "I heard you were looking for a little tail." She turned and shook her powder puffed fanny at him; a good number of the guest thought this was funny and laughed crudely.

Jerry looked down at the fanny and raised a brow. He could feel Sarah stiffening at his side, and flexed his fingers on her waist. "Thanks, Marcy… I'll keep that in mind." He said in acknowledging her greeting.

Soon the room was filling up and more students were still showing up. The butler came to him and whispered something to him but Jerry didn't look worried. Sarah heard him tell the servant to open up the game room for the spill over from the parlor. The butler looked a bit apprehensive and nervous at the suggestion however, the man choose not to vex the young master of the house.

"I have to play the good host," Jerry said to Sarah after the butler moved toward the corridor that led to the game room. "Come and help me greet people."

Sarah nodded as they left the room where the music was now louder than ever. She followed him down the hall to a room that was designed to be a man's sanctuary. It held a billiards table in a central area, a gaming table tucked nicely into a corner, and a wet bar in the opposite corner. On one wall was a dartboard, and on anther was a mounted head of a large buck with the largest set of antlers Sarah had ever seen. Leather arm chairs and a leather sofa gave the room a very masculine feel. The costumed guests were milling about the room, and greeted Jerry cheerfully as he and Sarah entered the room.

Sarah noticed not all of the guests were in the regular crowd that Jerry moved within. Some of these new comer guests were from a rougher crowd than Sarah was use to. She worried that the house party was about to get out of control, and was about to voice her fears when one of the boys who had slipped behind the wet bar pulled out a bottle of vodka.

"Hey, Jerry," he called over to the host. "How 'bout we liven up that punch you're serving?"

"Sure, why not." Jerry said, totally unaffected. He took the bottle from the other and headed toward the punch bowl.

"Jerry," Sarah cautioned. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Don't worry," he said pulling her toward the other room. He opened the bottle and poured in the entire contents, making sure none of the servants caught him in the act of spiking the bowl. "A little vodka is just what this party needs." He poured a cup full for himself and one for Sarah. "What's wrong, Rabbit," he asked, sipping the new concoction. "Haven't you ever snuck some hooch? Or are you a tea-totaler?"

Sarah looked suspiciously at the cup in her hand. "I've had liquor before," she found her self being defensive.

"Well, bottoms up, Rabbit." He tipped the cup up to her lips and watched as she downed the entire contents. When she'd drained the punch cup, he smiled wickedly at her. "Come on, let's mingle." He led her from group to group, stopping back at the spiked bowl twice more before he led her back to the gaming room. The room now held teens on the couch spooning and in various stages of light petting. He picked up the empty vodka bottle and called out. "Who's up for a little Spin the Bottle?"

Sarah, who had only had a bit of watered down wine before, was feeling the effects of the spiked punch. She was finding it hard to walk in the wooden sandals, and was almost relieved when Jerry motioned her to sit on the floor of the large room with the vaulted ceiling. She kicked off the sandals and put them off to the side. She watched as others joined them on the floor, including Marcy who made a point of sitting beside Jerry while she was across from him in the circle of twelve participants. She looked about, and noticed that Tom and Becky were missing, but before she could voice her concerns Jerry began giving the rules to the game.

"Hey Jim, bring me that other bottle of vodka, would you?" He held out his hand. "Good thing the old man never locks the liquor cabinet," he joked as he placed the bottle on the floor before him. "Okay, here's the deal. You all know how to play Spin the Bottle, right? One person starts, spins and whoever the bottle lands on has to give that person a kiss, a real kiss on the mouth… or take a swig off the bottle, or complete a dare."

Laura frowned, looking at the group. "What if a girl spins and the bottle lands on another girl?"

Jerry shrugged, "If you want to kiss that girl, I've got no objections."

Marcy looked at him and whispered in his ear, "I'll bet that kind of thing turns you on, doesn't it?"

Jerry looked at her coyly. "Maybe."

Marcy gave him a bawdy look and giggle.

He put his hand on the bottle, "However, boys don't have to kiss boys." He winked at one of the boys in the circle, who winked back. "Now, it being my birthday…I'll spin first."

Sarah, feeling a little dizzy, looked at the circle of teens. Some of the boys she didn't know, and the girls were ones she'd never had much to do with. Even through the liquor she could understand she was like a fish out of water in this group. She was going to leave when she realized Jerry had spun the bottle and it had landed on her.

Jerry leaned into the center of the circle, over the empty vodka bottle; "Come on, Rabbit, kiss me." He said invitingly.

Sarah looked at the others, and leaned into the center to award the kiss to Jerry who looked like he was very pleased with the start of this game. Sarah then took a turn and the bottle landed on a girl she didn't know dressed in a Sheena of the Jungle costume. "Take a drink or take a dare," she said shakily.

"I'll take a drink," the girl held out her hand for the open bottle of vodka.

The girl then spun the bottle, and it landed on Marcy. The girl leered at Marcy in the bunny outfit and giggled; "How's about a kiss?" She leaned into the circle and crooked her finger toward Marcy.

Marcy leaned in without hesitation, and kissed the girl with an open mouth to the gasps and snorts of the circle.

Jerry looked at Marcy as she moved back to her place. "Nice," he growled softly.

Sarah felt the furrowed lines of her brow forming.

"My turn," Marcy said in a sultry voice as she looked at Jerry before spinning the bottle. It was obvious she intended to land on the Birthday Boy. She calculated the amount of pressure needed and spun the bottle, landing on Jerry. "Come on, lover boy," she teased running her tongue over her lips. "Pucker up."

Sarah watched with a lump in her throat as Marcy kissed Jerry suggestively.

"There's more where that came from," Marcy said boldly when the kiss ended.

"I'll bet," Jerry teased as he placed his hand on the bottle. He spun and it landed on Paul. "Drink or dare," he challenged.

"Drink," Paul said calmly taking the vodka bottle into his hands. After taking his swig he spun, and it landed on Marcy. "Drink or dare?"

Marcy was disappointed Paul had not asked for a kiss, but as Laura was there she let it go. "Dare." She said boldly.

"Prove you are not padded into that costume." Paul said just as boldly.

"I will if you'll do the same," Marcy laughed bawdily.

Paul and Marcy stood up; he unzipped and placed her hand into his open fly. She got a lewd look on her face and whispered something dirty to the young man before pulling the top of her bunny costume aside to give him a good look at her breast. Several of the other boys hooted, one of the girls crowed she'd like to see some of that titty as well. Sarah had not expected either to do what they had done and sat confused and bewildered by it all. The liquor subduing her senses, she didn't speak up.

Sitting down again, Marcy spun the bottle and it once more landed on Jerry, just as she'd planed for it to. "A little more tongue, if you please," she teased as she leaned to him.

Sarah noticed the tightening in her throat, and the stinging at the corner of her eyes. There was a strange pain in the pit of her stomach and she felt heat building in her brain. The hoots and howls from the group cheering Marcy on set little flames afire in her eyes.

Jerry ended the kiss with Marcy much to her dismay, and she pouted. He spun the bottle and it landed on Sarah. He crooked his finger and she leaned into the circle but didn't look happy with him. He kissed her eyelids before kissing her lips gently. Sitting back, she took her turn and the bottle landed on Steve.

"Drink or dare?" she asked quietly.

Steve looked at the others in the circle; he was not expecting Sarah to want a kiss. He knew she was Jerry's girl, and Jerry had issued orders to everyone who was going to attend. No one was to kiss Sarah, under any circumstances. Considering that indict, he had been surprised when Jerry had accepted the advances of Marcy so willingly. "Dare," he said softly, not really liking the taste of liquor.

Sarah gave it a moment's thought, "Tell Marcy what you really think of her."

Marcy shot a look of hate at Sarah; she didn't want to know what anyone thought of her. She then glared at Steve, "Well?"

Steve looked at Sarah, surprised and pleased. He had wanted to tell Marcy off for years. "I think," he turned his gaze on the girl in the revealing bunny outfit. "That you are one spoiled, self-centered, egotistical bitch… you don't give a damn about anyone but yourself. I have no idea of what David sees in you or why he continues to torture himself asking you out."

Marcy's mouth dropped as the boys in the circle, including Jerry, began to snidely snicker. Marcy turned again to glare at Sarah, and quietly vowed revenge. Laura watched with wide eyes, and growing fear. This game was getting out of hand.

Steve spun the bottle and it landed on Jenny who he leaned in and demanded a kiss from. Jenny spun the bottle it landed on Sarah, who opted for a drink. She spun it landed on one of the boys she didn't know; he looked at her with a leering sly smile and she offered drink or dare. He took the drink and spun the bottle which landed on the girl who'd kissed Marcy. She took the dare, spun landing on Sarah who took the drink. The spinning went on and on, the dares got more daring, and the bottle was nearly empty. The bottle landed on Marcy who was now very angry and too drunk to care. The boy who'd spun the bottle asked drink or dare, Marcy took the drink.

She lifted the bottle to her lips and drank down a good gulp full. She looked at a door across the room and asked Jerry; "What's in there?"

"The storage closet for games and other equipment for the room," Jerry answered with out giving it much thought.

Marcy smiled wickedly and spun the bottle knowing it would land on Sarah. "I am only offering you a dare," Marcy said coldly. Sarah looked at her with blurred vision. "This is it, I want you to go into the storage closet with Jerry here… and suck his cock!" She leaned over and placed her hand on Jerry's thigh, rubbing her hand up and down in a suggestive motion. "That's right I want you to give Jerry here a good old fashioned blow job!"

Jerry, more sober than the rest of the circle had not expected Marcy to be quiet so blatant in her dare. He heard the gasps and wondered if Sarah had been one of the gaspers.

Marcy waited for a moment before adding crudely, "Well, what are you waiting for Sarah? Here's your chance to show us all that you're not just a tease." Marcy's eyes narrowed as she spoke in more that a challenging voice, it bordered on threatening. "Of course if you won't, I will…" she looked at Jerry with a dreamy look. "And I don't need a closet to do it in…" she leaned closer and moved her hand toward the young man's fly.

Jerry looked at the hand, surprised by the girl's boldness, and prepared to decline the suggestion. He felt that would be the best rejection under the circumstances and it would label Sarah as a rejected girlfriend. He placed a hand over Marcy's, about to speak when the quiet of the room was shattered by a loud voice.

"Get your fucking hands off my boyfriend!" a voice barked. All eyes, including those belonging to the Goblin in glamour turned to the girl in the red kimono who was standing up on shaky legs. "I said, get your fucking hand off my boyfriend, you bitch," Sarah moved to the center of the circle. "Nobody is going to suck his cock but me, do you understand?" She reached down, grabbing the lapel of his smoking jacket and pulled. Jerry rose to his feet and followed the girl to the door of the storage closet more out of shock and surprise than anything else. He opened the door and turned on the light before he entered with Sarah. He pulled the door closed and looked at her for a moment. Sarah, now totally under the influence of the amount of vodka she'd consumed, shoved him onto the lid of the wooden storage chest and went to her knees. "Well, come on," she slurred her words. "Before I change my mind."

Jareth's mind spun more wildly than the vodka bottle. He had passed the chance up to reject her, and now looking at the intoxicated girl on her knees he found he wanted to feel the pleasure her sweet mouth could bring. "You won't let me feel your boobs, but you'll suck my cock?" he teased.

Looking up with blurry eyes, and slurring her words the girl asked harshly, "Do you want this or not?"

Jareth's adult mind in the teen-aged glamour raced. Did he? Could he? He reached down caressing her face. "Damn right I want this," without another thought he unzipped his pants. The moment they had entered the closet his manhood had been aroused, now it was straining to be free. The girl had closed her eyes, opened her mouth and was waiting, if not ready. Jareth had abandoned the idea of rejecting her offer, instead he shifted the plan. He'd take the pleasure of laying sexual claim to her mouth. By Monday morning the school would be wild with the rumor of her giving this sexual favor to him. He could announce that his father had come home and declared they were heading back to England. She would be left to face the world knowing she'd given herself freely. He looked at the face, seeing the same look of defiance and determination that had been worn in the last moments of her journey though his Labyrinth. With both hands he, guided her head down onto the bulbous head of his cock. The moment it entered the warm, moist cavity her eyes popped open.

Sarah became unexpectedly and abruptly sober and completely aware. Shock, fear, and revulsion were mirrored in her eyes. She gagged as the length of the hard mass thrust into her mouth and moving toward the back of her throat. She moaned, and cried out, tears coming to her eyes.

Jareth began to thrust harder, ignoring the pleas of her eyes and the hands trying to shove him back away. She was unlike anything he'd experienced, and he was not going to let her escape him, not this time. He had known the pleasures of the flesh, had taken and abandoned lovers by the score. Nevertheless this was not something he'd expected, he was not willing to allow her to back out. 'What's said is said,' he thought to himself smugly as he rose off the chest she'd shoved him on only moments before. He thrust harder, deeper, faster, and held tight to her head, directing the motions. He became aware of a tactical problem quite quickly. He was losing control of the glamour in trying to sustain his arousal. It was lose the glamour and be discovered, or blow his wad into her sweet mouth. The latter seemed his only option. Shoving his hard cock in as far back as he could, knowing he was going to ejaculate; he let out a roar, knowing all in the other room would know he'd climaxed. He felt his hot cum spurt into her; he heard her gag as it went down her throat. Only when he'd felt her mouth milk him dry did he release her head. He stumbled back and looked down at her, meaning to gloat. However, the gloat didn't come.

Sarah could not look at him; the tears that now filled her eyes blurred her vision more than the liquor had. She stumbled over the hem of the kimono as she rose to her feet and opened the door. She'd half expected Marcy to be there at the door, waiting to see if they had indeed done the deed. But when she opened the door it was to the sounds of chaos going on. The room was up for grabs, bodies of boys and girls were littering the couch and chairs in a sexual free for all. Marcy was being taken up on her boast of being able to give head without having to resort to the privacy of a closet. Two of the crashers were shoving their meaty members into her face for her ministrations. Seeing this, Sarah ran to where her sandals lay discarded, picked them up, and hurried out of the room past the wrangling couples and Marcy. Jenny and Steve had exited the room right after Sarah had gone to the closet with Jerry, and they were not looking for Tom.

Sarah moved toward the main parlor, going through the foyer. She was looking for Tom or Becky, and a way to leave this place. Her arm was grabbed from behind. "Let me go," she begged.

"Sarah, wait!" a voice pleaded. "Don't run from me, not now."

She pulled her hand, trying to free it. "Let me go." Her voice rose.

Jerry struggled to keep his hold on her, wrapping her in his arms he guided her toward the stairs instead of allowing her to make her way to the parlor. "Rabbit, please, just come with me..." he pleaded. "Come upstairs, I'll make it all right… I want to give to you what you've given me…. Just come with me…."

"No!" She shouted, now fighting wildly to be free. "Let me go!"

"Sarah, let me take you upstairs," his voice rose over the shouts of others and the cheers and jeers. "Just come with me," he was struggling to move her up the stairs.

Tom and Becky, warned by Jenny and Steve, were now coming from the room where other teens were still drinking down the spiked punch. Tom looked at Becky who was begging him to do something. Steve and Jenny were shouting at Jerry to let Sarah go, chaos ruled supreme. Goblins and elves that were disguised as servants snickered and cackled at the sight of the pandemonium. All the while Jareth, fighting to maintain the glamour, was still trying desperately to urge the girl up the stairs.

_**"Will some one tell me what the hell is going on here?"**_ a voice roared, breaking the pandemonium.

Jerry froze, his hands still gripping Sarah, his head shot around and he stared at the man entering the front door of the Tudor mansion. "Father," Jerry said in a stunned voice. "What are you doing here?" there was no mistaking the guilt and culpability in the boy's quivering voice.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

**Chapter 14.**

_**"Will some one tell me what the hell is going on here?"**_ a voice roared, breaking the pandemonium.

Jerry froze, his hands still gripping Sarah, his head shot around and he stared at the man entering the front door of the Tudor mansion. "Father," Jerry said in a stunned voice. "What are you doing here?" there was no mistaking the guilt and culpability in the boy's quivering voice.

In the entry of the magnificent old Tutor stood a man who would have been at home in any opulent palace or exotic setting. He stood tall, straight, and firm. He was dressed in an expensive wool overcoat that had been cut distinctly with him in mind, just as his Armani suit had been. In his hand was a fedora that matched the topcoat impeccably. His bearded face was full of fury and was directed at the young man on the stairs still gripping a very frightened and disillusioned mortal girl. "Start talking boy, and make it good." Eyes like dark ebony flamed with outrage.

A woman entered the house behind the man; she too was dressed in expensive garments. "Darling, temper." She said in a voice that was laced with a very European accent. "Wouldn't it be best to wait?"

Becky turned on Tom with rage of her own, "You said he had permission for this party."

The man looked at her, he saw an innocent, and he judged her guiltless in this outrageous revelry. The boy he recognized as a Fae in glamour just as his son was in glamour. He looked about the entry way and saw the goblin's in disguise scurry away for fear of his anger. "Look at this place, is this the way you treat my home?"

"Your home," Jerry repeated before he remembered he was supposed to be just a teenager. "NO, no sir." He said shamed, but his hand was still holding tight to the now struggling girl.

"Take your hands off that girl!" the man ordered as he turned to the teen-aged glamour of Thomas. "Young man, take these girls home." He commanded, coldly. "Then you'd best come back and face me, unless you'd like me to call on your father." Steve and Jenny were behind Tom and Becky; the man judged that they too were innocent victims of his son's misguided ideas of revenge. "You two are free to go as well," They moved to the door swiftly. The man looked up the stairs at Jerry. "I told you to take your hands off that girl." He moved closer, held out a hand to Sarah to guide her back down the few steps. "Thomas, take this girl home."

Becky wrapped her arms around Sarah, apologizing to her and soothing her, while she glared at both Tom and Jerry. She escorted the girl out of the house, followed closely by Tom who looked beyond worried, into truly panicked.

The elder looked at the younger man on the stairs. "Clear the house… now." He removed his coat and laid it upon the rail of the stairs. "I'll be waiting for you in my study."

"Yes sir," Jerry said moving down the stairs and calling out for everyone to get out. He paused in the doorway of the game room, Marcy was sandwiched between two young studs still clothed but he could tell that it would not be long before they would have her stripped. He broke up the sexual game, "Time to go." He announced shoving people toward the door. "My folks came home early."

Marcy, drunk and disorderly, didn't really care. "Fine, what say we take this to the shack and finish our party?"

One of the boys whose hands were all over her laughed at her suggestion. "Hell baby, we've got a back seat all ready for you." They ushered her hurriedly out of the game room and out of the house.

David was nowhere to be found, and Jareth could not find his scent in the house. Sometime during the time he'd been in the closet with Sarah the young mortal boy must have left. Jareth felt a bit of regret for him, knowing what rejection felt like. He made sure the room was empty before going to track down the rest of the crashers, thankful none had made it up to the upper level of the house. Laura was yelling like a banshee at Paul in the driveway, demanding that he help her stop Marcy from taking off with the pair she'd hooked up with in the game room. One by one, the vehicles pulled out of the driveway of the Tudor, and Jerry was left to face the music alone.

He closed the door, allowing the glamour to drop. Still dressed in the smoking jacket, he now looked like himself and the jacket fit much better than it had moments ago. He looked at the woman who was standing in the foyer shaking her head as she looked at him.

"What were you thinking of?" She asked urgently.

Holding up his hand, he silenced her. "Let me put out his fire first."

The woman sniffed the air, the house smelled like a brothel. "We're going to have to fumigate!" She complained as she moved toward the game room. The air in there reeked of liquor and sex. She opened the window to air out the staid scents. Seeing the wreckage, soda bottles and cans scattered about the room, she was glad there were servants to clean up this mess. Even with magic, it would have been tiring. Moving back through the room she paused, sensing something, something coming from the storage closet. Opening the door, she was assaulted by the energies that had been spent in there. She stumbled back, and held the door for a moment while she came to understand what had transpired. "Oh no," she whispered dejectedly. "OH Jareth, how could you?" She wept.

--

Jareth tapped on the door he knew the Great High King was behind. He heard the order to enter, touched the knob with the slight urge to turn and run for the safety of the Labyrinth. Turning the knob, he sealed his fate. "Father?"

Seated in a leather winged back chair sat Oberon, Great High King of the Fae, ruler absolute of the FairyLands. He looked up, pained and disappointed in one of his favorite children. "Come in boy," he motioned him to shut the door. "Come, and talk to me."

Jareth crossed the room, and took a seat opposite his father. "How did you find out?" The Goblin King sulked as he sat.

"I'll be asking the questions," snapped the older Fae harshly. "What did you think? You thought you could just use my good name and there'd be no repercussions? Did you not think my realtors would report this… misuse of my reputation?"

"What misuse? I paid cash for this house, so in truth it's my…." The younger man argued softly, hoping he could unbalance his father's arguments.

"You used my name and identify to obtain this domicile!" The elder was not going to be derailed. He stood up and paced one hand behind his back while the other mopped his brow. "Imagine my shock when I find out I'm supposed to be staying here, on business, with my teenaged son enrolled in an American High School."

Jareth watched his father pace, knowing he was truly in deep trouble this time. "I'm sorry, Father," he sighed.

"And for what, Jareth?" Oberon paced now behind the leather chair, he rested his hand on the high wide back. "All because you're still harboring a grudge against a mortal girl for having the effrontery to deny and reject you…"

"Father," Jareth objected but was cut off quickly.

"And what do I find when I arrive here? An orgy!" Roared the elder. "Gods in their heavens, boy! Think if I'd been a few moments longer in arriving… have you thought of the consequences of bedding a mortal?"

Jareth blinked, held his breath waiting for the wrath of God to strike him down.

Oberon glared at the younger Fae, "I have but one recourse; and like it or not you will obey me in this edict."

Jareth looked at his father, fearing now what could be a very long punishment. "And that is?"

"You came here to be a teenager, fine… you and your cohorts will remain teenagers for the remainder of the school year," his father sentenced him. "Not only that but I will be in residence here for the year, keeping you in line, young man!" He motioned the younger Fae to leave his sight.

Jareth exited the study, pulling the door shut behind him. He stood reeling with the knowledge that his father was not aware of what had taken place. He moved toward the foyer where the other Fae young men were becoming visible. Tom who had dropped the girls off at Becky's was now standing with Paul arguing. Both turned to their King, the young Goblin King and awaited news of the High King's decision. Jareth approached them cautiously and looked over his shoulder. "I've got good news and bad," he said lightly.

Tom schooled his face; this was serious and he knew it. "The bad news?"

Jareth sighed, "We have to remain teenagers for the rest of the school year… play out the parts…" Thomas cursed and threw his hands up.

Paul ignored the hysterics; he turned to Jareth. "What's the good news?"

Taking the younger men out to the front yard where the only witness to their conversation was a garden gnome, he spoke with mirth. "He does not seem to know what took place in the game room…"

Both young men looked at him in disbelieve. "Impossible," gasped Tom.

"He's baiting you," warned Paul.

Jareth shook his head, "I don't think so," he motioned toward the house. "I think because of his rage at me, all he saw was me trying to force the girl upstairs… he has no idea of what I did to her already."

"What did you do?" Tom asked unaware of the goings on in the game room.

Paul snickered and pointed to Jareth. "He got the girl to give him a blow job…."

"A blow job?" Tom also snickered while the Goblin King tried to hush them.

"Better than that," he said triumphantly. "She swallowed…" Both the other young Fae men leered in appreciation. Jareth smiled, "This is so much better than what I planned."

"By Monday, Marcy will have it going all around the school that Sarah is easy," jeered Tom. "You can dump her then."

Jareth raised a brow, "Why would I want to do that?" He mocked the other. "After all, if I'm stuck in this dump playing the teenaged rogue, at least I can use her to wile away the time." He laughed heartlessly. "It's the least she can do…."

--

Sarah lay on the spare bed in Becky's room, weeping pitifully. Becky not being able to quiet her, called for her mother. When Carrie entered the room, she looked at her daughter with troubled eyes. "What happened?" She asked calmly.

"The party went bad…" Becky confessed quickly, knowing that owning up was the only course open to her. "We didn't go to the dance at the school… we went to a birthday party at Jerry King's house."

"Becky!" Carrie declared, coming into the room.

"Oh Mom, come on…" Becky complained. "It was supposed to be a nice little party at the old Winston estate… and there were servants there… and … Tom told me Jerry had permission… and wanted it all to be a surprise for Sarah…"

Carrie listened, and rolled her eyes. "And did Jerry have permission?"

"Not for what happened," Becky went on. "Someone told me Jerry spiked the punch, I wouldn't know, I didn't have any… but there were kids from all over the school there, and what started out as a nice party with music and food became something else altogether."

Carrie moved toward the girl on the bed and smelled alcohol dripping out of her pores. "Good God," she began to undress Sarah. "What happened to her, do you know?"

"I know some," Becky said. "Tom and I were dancing and she went off with Jerry to the game room. Jenny told me they were playing Spin the Bottle with a kiss, drink or dare rule. I have no idea how much Sarah had to drink but it had to be a lot!" She sat down on the floor, miserable. "That bitch Marcy made sure the bottle landed on Sarah and dared her to go into a closet with Jerry… she dared her to… suck his cock Jenny said…. When they came out… all hell broke lose…. And Jerry's father showed up and ordered Tom and Steve to take us home…She's been crying ever since."

Carrie removed the kimono and under gown and pulled Sarah up to her feet. "Come on, Sarah, we're going to get that nasty shit out of your system." Carrie and Becky, with Sarah braced between them, moved to the bathroom where Carrie opened a bottle of syrup of ipecac which she forced Sarah to drink. Moments later, the contents of the girl's stomach empted into the commode. Having removed the hair decorations, Carrie now held the girl's hair back out of the way. "That's it Sarah, let it all out! The sooner its out, the better you'll feel." She looked at the swill in the bowl and frowned, she'd never seen anything like it. She flushed the commode, and washed the girl's face. "Becky, go to my room and get my bottle of Tylenol." She cupped the chin of the ailing girl. "The best way to fight a headache is to prevent it." She explained while she helped Sarah to the bedroom again.

Sarah sat feeling embarrassed while her friend's mother fussed over her. "Are you going to call my folks?" she asked.

Carrie took a seat on the bed, "No," she admitted feeling a bit of guilt over the situation herself. "I think this once; we should just handle it ourselves." She placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Do you think you could tell your folks about what happened?" When the girl shook her head no, the woman nodded. "Well do you want to talk to me about…"She was surprised when Sarah flung herself into her open arms, sobbing as if she'd lost her best friend.

"I want to die," Sarah wailed. "It was… humiliating…."

Becky came in, sat on the floor and hung her head. "It's my fault; I should have listened when you said you didn't want to go in."

"You didn't dare me to go into the closet," Sarah held her hand out to Becky. "And you didn't…." She closed her eyes remembering Jerry's cock in her mouth.

Carrie sighed, and pulled both girls to sit beside her on the bed. "Look, guys are pigs," she said calmly. "And sometimes they like things that we find disgusting…" She looked at Becky's big eyes. "Yes, honey, even Daddy," Carrie sighed. "Sometimes you overlook the gross things…" She placed her arm about Sarah's shoulders. "I'm sure it was not as bad as you think it was. The first time is always embarrassing."

"First and last, I'll never do anything like that again," Sarah vowed.

"Never say never," warned Carrie standing up. "What you two need is a good night's sleep. I'll hold breakfast for you in the morning… Sleep in, and just let it all go." She walked to the door. "Good night, girls."

Becky waited until her mother had left the room. "Was it really awful?"

"Have you ever," Sarah paused and made a lewd motion with her hand.

Becky, who had changed into her night gown, shook her head. "Nearest I've gotten is giving Tom a good old fashioned hand job…"

"You didn't," Sarah stared at her.

Becky shrugged. "I like Tom. Hell, I may even love him. It's not a big deal."

Sarah curled up in a ball on the bed. "It is to me."

--

Marcy lay on the back seat of the car; she had lost count of how many boys had shoved into her. The one pumping into her at the moment was uncaring of whether or not she was getting any pleasure out of the moment. He was more concerned with getting his own nuts off. Of all the faces that had slobbered over her, the one she wanted was not there. Sarah's words echoed in her ears, and she vowed that one way or another she'd find a way to get even.

--

Sarah had the feeling of falling; it was so familiar, so recognizable and comfortable. She was not free falling, there was something holding her back. Something like hands, helping hands. Down and down she was being moved by the hands that would not allow her to slip from their grip. On and on, until she thought she'd be descending forever. Finally, the hands lowered her into a dark round space.

'Even if you reach the center,' a voice warned in the darkness. 'You'll never get out again.'

Sarah shivered, "Hoggle?" She called out weakly. "Hoggle, is that you?"

Snickering and clawing drew her attention as she spun around. Something snickered, and ducked down behind the table that was holding the candle that was the only light in the dimly lit round room. "Hoggle?" she called out in a scared voice. Shadows scuttled past her, bumping into her legs and drawing a startled cry from her. "Goblins," she screeched. They pranced, bobbed and danced about her wildly now in the confined round space. She cried out each time they touched her tauntingly. "Leave me alone!" She begged.

At the far end of the room where Hoggle had appeared before, someone else now stood, smiling jeeringly at her. Sarah gasped, "Goblin King."

"I see you remember me," he sauntered over to where she stood his hands at his hip as they had been that first time she'd laid eyes upon him. "How nice."

"What do you want from me?" She tried to back up but only ran into a group of goblins who pushed her forward again. When she looked away from the horde of goblins gathered, she came face to face with the man who had tried to haunt her dreams only to be banished. She looked at him and started to speak. "You have no…"

His fingers stilled her lips. "Want to bet?"

Sarah sat up in the bed, drenched in sweat and fear. She held her cover up, feeling her own heart pounding wildly. "It was just a dream," she whispered, "Just a bad dream." Counting to one hundred, working to calm her pounding heart, she lay back down and closed her eyes.

--

In the room he'd been sent to, Jareth sat holding a crystal, watching the girl. "Just a bad dream," he repeated eyeing the image in his hand. "Keep telling yourself that, Rabbit." He tossed the crystal up, watching it grow thin and shatter like a soap bubble. He laughed quietly to himself and then began to hum; thinking of the moment Sarah had dragged him off to the storage closet. He could still feel the warmth of her sweet lips caressing his hardened manhood. He had taken her mouth, and the rest of her would follow, he was sure. And what pleasure it would be to deflower that girl, the Goblin King mused.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**

Jareth was awakened by one of his goblins pulling at his arm. He turned and looked sleepily at the little creature. "Yes?" he asked groggily.

"Big scary man, _**big King**_ says he wants you to come down to breakfast." The goblin said in a cowering voice.

Jareth sat up, "Quince, stop shivering." He ran a hand through his long hair, getting it out of his eyes. "I'm the one in trouble here, not you."

"Big King says we all in trouble," warned Quince, continuing to quake in his little boots.

Jareth waved the cringing little creature back to where he'd come from. He rose from the bed, moved to the shower and bathed. He dressed in the casual attire of a nineteen year old with a bit more care than one would expect from an adolescent. He smoothed back his wild hair, and tied the long tendrils in the back with a black ribbon. Once he was satisfied he looked like the son of a King, he left his rooms.

Oberon and his Queen were seated in the breakfast room, being served coffee. The High King looked up at his son's approach and once he'd scrutinized the boy's attire, he spoke to him. "Thank you for joining us so promptly."

"Good morning Father," Jareth greeted the High King politely. He bent toward the Queen and placed a gentle kiss at her cheek. "Madame," he greeted her affectionately. Moving to a seat in the center of the table he took his place. "Coffee please," he called out.

Oberon leaned back in his chair, eyeing the young buck suspiciously. "You're a bit too chipper to suit me, young man. I was serious in my decision of last night." This morning he was dressed in a tan colored blazer with brown casual slacks. He looked completely at ease and comfortable in this mundane setting; any one looking at him would never have guessed this being was the most powerful Fae in existence. At first glance one would mistake him for perhaps a man in finance or import/exporting.

Jareth looked over at him as his coffee was served. "I'm sure you were serious, Father." He said agreeably. "You wish me to remain a teen ager, until I've learned my lesson. All mortals will perceive me as a mortal teenager," he smiled gently at the elf who served him his bowl of fruit compote. "Thank you Elsie," he said politely.

Oberon looked at his wife questioningly. "Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes dear," she answered; "Very clear."

The High King frowned. "You don't intend to argue?" His son shook his head while spooning fruit into his mouth. "I see," Oberon wiped his mouth with the napkin in his hand. "I've a few amendments to add."

"Please do," Jareth smiled.

"You'll be without that fancy little car you magiced up." Oberon watched, waiting for a protestation, none came. "And you'll be grounded like a normal mundane for at least three weeks." Jareth nodded. "And you'll be expected to pay for any and all damages out of your own treasury."

"I had planned on making restitution," Jareth assured the elder.

Oberon cocked his head to one side, there was something different about the boy, something he could not quite put a name to. "About that girl," the High King said stiffly. "You'll end the relationship immediately."

Jareth raised a hand, "There I draw the line." He looked at the High King. "It would look very bad for her," he reasoned with the High King. "After all, she is the innocent here, I'm the one who threw the party, and I'm the one who allowed things to get out of hand. If I just dump her, as the teens here say, it will ruin her reputation for sure." He looked at his father a bit too saucily. "Is that what you want, Father?"

Tossing the napkin down, Oberon's frown deepened and his brow furrowed. "You know it is not."

"If she dumps me, fine…if not," Jareth reasoned. "It would be best to allow me to make it up to the girl."

Leaning one elbow on the table, the High King narrowed his gaze. "See here boy, I know what I witnessed last night. Your attempt to molest that child…"

"It was not an attempt," Jareth interjected. "I was molesting that girl, I refuse to call her a child. She is ripened fruit on the vine."

The High Queen cleared her throat, reminding them there was a lady present.

"You owe that girl a genuine apology." Oberon declared in a low rumbling tone. "I expect you to make it to her today; this morning, in fact."

"Father," Jareth leaned on the table toward the elder. "How do you propose I get there? You've taken away my wheels."

Oberon looked over at his wife who was trying not to snicker. "You may take the sedan, and you'd best find a way to get to school while your car is being withheld from you."

"Yes, Father." Jareth smiled as breakfast was served. He looked over at the High King, "I was wondering if you'd taken into consideration my role as Goblin King."

"You'll continue the way you've managed so far." Oberon spread his napkin on his lap once more before tucking into the fluffy eggs he was served. "If a child is wished away only then will you be seen as the Goblin King." He muttered to himself. "You seem to have managed the duel roles so far."

"Thank you," Jareth said without looking at his father.

The High Queen watched Father and son, both mirrored the other. She shook her head and began to eat her breakfast.

--

Becky awoke to find Sarah showered and dressed, sitting staring out the window. She looked over at Becky as the other girl groggily sat up. "What time is it?" Becky asked.

"A little after nine," Sarah said softly. "I couldn't sleep," she sighed. "Guilty feelings."

"You've done nothing to feel guilty about," Becky said firmly. "That rat Jerry does, and so does Tom!" The red haired girl's voice was gravely with sleep. "They are both in hot water as far as I'm concerned."

Sarah stared out the window again, the leaves were nearly all down in the trees surrounding the house Becky lived in. "I'm not going to blame anyone but myself. I didn't have to play that stupid game, I didn't have to drink the vodka, and I didn't have to go in the storage closet." Her voice was subdued and lacked emotions.

Becky tossed back her covers and left the bed, stomped over to where Sarah was seated and shoved her shoulder. "Oh come off it!" she snapped. "You were set up, and those jerks used me to set you up!" Indignation and righteous anger were married with resentment in the girls tone. "Those lying bastards are due for a reality slap in the face."

Sarah looked at Becky, sizing up the other's indignation. "Are you angry they set us up, or that they used you?"

"Both," the girl answered honestly. "Look Sarah, I'm no angel, I never claimed I was. But there's a code of honor and those two disregarded it."

"A code of honor?" Sarah mused.

Becky nodded, crossed her arms over her pajama top. "That's right; one does not ambush a novice. And you Miss Sarah Williams, you are a novice." She sat beside Sarah on the window seat. "You never took a drink of hard liquor before in your life, did you?"

"No," Sarah agreed.

"And you would have refused if Marcy had not been there." Becky reasoned. "Jenny told me how she plopped down next to Jerry, her hands all over him."

Sarah winced at the memory, "I called her a bitch."

"Mild if you ask me," Becky rested an elbow on the sill of her window. "I'd have had a lot more ammo."

Sarah sighed, "I'm going to have to tell my folks," she rationalized. "I'm sure Mr. King is going to call everyone's parents. I'd rather they heard it from me, than from him."

"I don't think he will call everyone's parents." Becky stood up, moving to her bathroom. "If he were going to do that he'd have done it last night."

Sarah wondered if Becky were right.

--

Jareth called for Tom to come in the sedan and pick him up. Tom pulled up to the front of the Tudor and waited quietly. When Jareth entered the car, he motioned Tom to drive. "Sarah stayed at Becky's last night," Jareth said holding a crystal in his hand. "So that's where we must go. My father insists that I apologize for trying to molest her, and upsetting to poor dear creature." There was no mistaking the sarcasm.

"And you agreed?" Tom scoffed.

"Pick your battles," warned Jareth. "As long as the old fox has no idea of what really took place, my plans for Sarah's humiliation and down fall are intact."

"I still think it would be interesting to see her reactions to Jareth the Goblin King at this point." Tom commented drolly.

Jareth made no mention of the dream he'd witnessed in the crystal, it was his secret, not to be shared. "Perhaps, but right now, I have to play out by the new rules we've been given by the High King. No mortal waking is to see us as anything but mundane teens."

Tom looked disappointed. "Unless she _**invites**_ you into a dream, you've got to obey the _**Eschant**_."

"All in due time, Thomas," Jareth sighed. "I have all the time in the world, this one and our own."

"Go easy with that time warping if you will," cautioned the young Fae's companion. "And don't let the old man get wind of your manipulating it."

"Don't worry," the Goblin King smirked. "I know how to handle my father."

--

Carrie watched the girls, glad her husband was away on business. The last thing he needed was to worry about how fast Becky was growing up. She sensed that the girls didn't need to talk about the events of the night before, so she didn't bring it up. "I'm going to a gallery this afternoon; would you girls like to come?"

Becky looked up from the breakfast in front of her. "What kind of gallery?"

"A place that specializes in lapidary art;" Carrie stated looking at the handbill that had been delivered with the mail earlier that week. "Looks like it could be an interesting place."

Sarah smiled wistfully, enjoying the fact that Mrs. Reynolds was so natural with them. "You mean jade and stuff like that?"

"Oh not just jade," She shoved the handbill toward Sarah. "Crystal art as well, and not just the touristy stuff; some of this is really well crafted." She turned her head. "Are you expecting anyone?" She asked her daughter.

"No," Becky listened as well. "But that's Tom's dad's car. I'd know that engine anywhere."

Carrie nodded, "I suppose he's come to take his medicine." She looked at the girls. "Would you like to play the angry Mommy?"

Becky snickered, "Why ruin your nice calm karma?" She teased as she stood up. "I'll take care of it; you enjoy your tranquility and harmony." Becky arrived at the door with a scowl on her face as the bell rang. Opening it she was mildly surprised to find Jerry there as well as Tom. "Well look what the cat dragged in," she sniped.

Tom was wearing a sheepish look of apology. "Baby come on, be fair." He crooned by way of an admission of guilt.

Becky ignored Tom, glaring at Jerry. "You want something?"

"I'd like to talk to Sarah, thank you." Jerry was as sarcastic as Becky.

"Sarah," she called out to the other girl. "That rat we were discussing has shown up, and wants to talk to you."

Sarah came into the foyer, she looked at the young man, her eyes still wounded. "Oh does he now?"

Jerry let out an exasperated huff, walked past Becky to grip Sarah's forearm. "Outside if you please," he said coldly. "I don't need a grand audience." He pulled the girl out of the house.

Becky moved to stop him, but Tom place a hand in her path. "Let them go," he warned. "We have our own little tête-à-tête to take care of, don't we?"

Becky gave him a cold and sobering glare. "You used me you rat bastard!"

"Yes, I did," he admitted willingly. "But you were aware that we were manipulating Sarah into attending Jerry's party." He pointed out standing his ground.

"Attending a little party, is what you said… not a fucking orgy." She dug a finger into his chest. "Have you any idea of what that makes me out to be? It makes me a traitor you shitfaced cock-smith!"

Tom scowled as he took hold of her hand. "Things got out of hand," he acknowledged trying to sound remorseful. "I had no idea he was going to spike the punch." He lied with practice.

"Why don't I believe you?" She scoffed.

"Becky," he sighed frustrated and wound up. "Look he's been grounded and lost his car…"

"And what about what Sarah lost, Tom, or does that mean nothing to you?" Becky fried back still angry. "Have you any idea of what is going to be said about her? The kinds of things Marcy is going to pass around?"

Tom blinked, in truth he really didn't care, but he could see that Becky was furious. "No, I hadn't."

--

Jerry matched Sarah out to a tree that was in the center of the Reynolds' front lawn. He didn't speak to her until they were well away from the house. "Don't say anything," he warned as he pushed her back up against the trunk of the tree. "Just stand there and listen to me." He was in an antagonistic mood, and looking at the girl increased his irritation at having to issue an apology. "Things got out of hand last night, and I'm sorry you were upset by my trying to maneuver you up stairs." He took a deep breath. "My father is furious with me, and I've lost my driving privileges, he's yanked the TR6 from me. I'm grounded for the next three weeks, and I have to pay for any damages to the house out of my savings. "

Sarah blinked, crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "So you're here because your father ordered you to apologize, is that it?"

"That's it," he said coolly.

Sarah looked at him, thought about what he had just said, and looked at him with the dawn of understanding. "He doesn't know," she gasped. "He doesn't know what happened in the game room."

Jerry grinned like a Cheshire cat, "No, Rabbit, he does not know."

"You're not sorry," she accused. "No one little bit."

"There you're wrong," he said boldly. "I'm sorry they came home and interrupted a wonderful birthday celebration."

"You're not sorry about what happened," she accused with passion rising in her voice. "You're not sorry about what you made me do…"

"Hold it," he protested just as passionately. "I didn't make you do anything. You dragged me into that closet, remember? You didn't have to take the dare," he teased meanly.

"Oh I suppose I was supposed to sit there and watch Marcy unzip your pants and choke you down?" She turned her back on him, furious and still feeling humiliated.

Jerry's hands moved to her waist. "I'm not going to stand here and lie to you Sarah," he said darkly at her ear. "I'm not sorry about what happened, about what you did," he corrected himself as he felt her stiffening. "What we did." He felt the slight tremor deep within her. "I will treasure that moment forever."

Sarah moaned, "It was awful."

"It was magnificent," he growled into her ear. "I wanted to take you up to my room and do for you what you'd done for me."

Sarah, sickened at the thought, shuddered. "You think that's what I wanted?"

"No," he said truthfully. "I think it's what you needed." He turned her in his embrace to look at him. "You've no idea of how much I wanted to take you up stairs and …"

Sarah gagged on her growing bile. "Stop!" she ordered him. "Just stop!"

"You announced to the entire world that I was your boyfriend," he murmured in a low rumbling voice. "That no one was going to suck me but you." He pulled her closer. "I know you're not use to this kind of sexual play," his breath on her ear sent chills running deliciously through her. "I know it was your first time," his fingers caused little shocks up her spine. "It'll be better the next time, I promise."

Sarah looked up at him so quickly it looked like her head had spun like the bottle they had played with. "Next time," she snapped. "There's not going to be a next time."

"Yes there will," he eyed her with confidence. "And it won't be my idea, it'll be yours."

"I doubt that," she heard her voice shake and cursed herself.

Jerry didn't speak; instead he brought his hands up to her face, caressing her until he could tilt her face up to his. He lowered his lips to hers, drawing out the long and lingering kiss. When he raised his head, he sighed. "Oh there'll be a next time alright."

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat. "Not after your father gets through calling all the other parents."

Jerry smiled softly. "He's not calling anyone's parents. He wants me to pay for my mistake."

"He's not…calling?"

Jerry tightened his embrace. "Nope, he's not calling. You're off the hook," he kissed her again.

Sarah pushed him back, "I'm not off the hook," she complained. "Everyone is going to know what we did, Marcy will see to that."

"Everyone will know that you have a boyfriend, so what?" He sighed.

"You don't get it, do you?" Sarah argued. "They are going to know what I did, how I reacted, that I ran from you."

"The only thing they will know is we went into a closet, and that my father showed up." He argued back. "The rest will be speculations, and Marcy was drunk, she's not a reliable witness. If anyone gets out of line, I'll be there to deal with them." He promised.

"Why should you?"

He pulled her painfully close. "I told you Rabbit, if I want something I get it, and once I've got it, I keep it." In her ear he whispered. "I'm keeping you, Rabbit, I'm keeping you."

Sarah shuddered, nodded as her hands moved slowly up his back. She rested her head on his chest and prayed he was telling her the truth. Yet she didn't really believe she could trust him, something, some inner sense had been warning her from the moment she'd laid eyes on him. She had ignored it, shoved it back into the background and trounced over it. Now it had reared its head and was threatening to bite her in the ass. She frowned, she'd asked for it, had no one to blame but herself. She felt the shivers, like gooses running over a grave. Something about this was so wrong, so familiar and so… She looked up at him, 'he's just an English boy!' she told herself. 'This is not the same.' She tensed up once more, he was wrong, there would be no next time. She was never going to want to do that again, she vowed to herself. Yet, as his hands moved over her in their tender embrace she felt a fearful shiver building from somewhere she'd never felt one before.

Within the glamour, a Goblin King felt his own tremble as the girl began to surrender her resistance. He smiled knowing he was now in her system, and she would not be able to resist him. The smile faded as he realized he had meant what he'd said. He was going to keep her, too young or not. He cast an eye toward the house and hoped that if the other Fae was watching, he'd think it was part of the King's ruse. He was going to have to do some fast foot work to get himself around this one. Thomas was no fool, and if Jareth wanted him to stay useful he was going to have to credit him with the intelligence he knew the other capable of. It was enough right now that the girl was surrendering what little she had. She would initiate the next sexual move; he would only have to wait. She had no experience, and the hunger would drive her to him, of that he was sure. She had tasted him, and no amount of denial would change that fact. She would hunger for him, that knowledge would carry him through the three weeks of grounding.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16.**

Sarah was bound and determined to prove Jerry wrong. After he and Tom had driven off she'd told Becky she was relieved he was going to be grounded. Becky found it odd and commented on it.

"Sarah, he just turned nineteen," she warned. "And his father is grounding him?"

"Legal system in England is different you know," Sarah made excuses. "It could be that he's not considered a true adult until he's twenty five, or older. I don't know I'm just glad he's going to be out of my hair for three weeks."

"Hardly out of your hair," cautioned Becky. "He's still going to be as school."

Sarah packed up her costume and refused to be negative. "Does not matter, I'll be able to skirt the issues."

"Don't bet on it," Becky said helping her carry her things down to the foyer. "Marcy is still in the mix."

"Are you girls ready?" Carrie called sharply. "Let's move it."

--

Jareth watched as the sedan pulled out of the drive, he knew that the High King had caused the stand in parents Thomas was using to begin to act like real parents. Neither he nor Thomas was going to get off easy, even Paul was feeling the High King's wrath. He turned to look at the house; at least he was still living like a King. He walked back toward the house, thinking about his three weeks of grounding. It was so amusing that now the High King was acting like an outraged parent. Where had he been when Jareth was in fact a teen ager?

Jareth noticed that the high Queen was strolling alone in the fall garden. He took the path that would allow him to join her. "Madame," he said softly not wishing to disturb or startle her. "May I join you?"

"I was hoping you would," she held her hand out to him, sliding it into the crook of his arm. "I've always loved autumn; an autumn garden I confess is one of my favorites." She looked at the fall blooming Chrysanthemums were ablaze of color against the other blooms that had begun to fade. "There's still a few roses blooming," she noted.

Jareth nodded, "I thought it was lovely when I arranged for the house."

She looked at him, knowing there was a sensitive side to the boy, and she hoped to reach out to it. "We need to talk," she said in a trembling voice. When he looked at her she whispered. "I know what happened."

Jareth looked back at the house, before his gaze returned to the High Queen. "How?"

"You need to ask?" She inquired becoming stiff and formal.

"I fear that I do," he nodded. "How can you know what the High King himself does not?"

"He didn't go into the game room, or he too would know," she saw they Goblin King begin a slight panic, and placed her free hand to his face. "No, he won't discover your secret. I cleared the room of the… evidence."

"Why?" Jareth looked at his father's wife, the woman who had raised him as well as his own mother had. "Why would you help me?"

The High Queen looked at the younger Fae King with troubled eyes. "I am not doing this to help you, but to protect your father."

Jareth, defensive and feeling cornered, stepped back one step abruptly. "My father does not need protection form me."

"Have you any idea of how he'd react to this? What were you thinking?" She fretted. "What could this mortal have done to you that were so atrocious that you would do such a thing?"

Jareth had never had feelings of guilt over things he'd done, nor had he been called on the carpet by neither his parents nor his stepmother before. "It was part of a game…" he hoped it sounded like a reasonable alibi. But the look on the Queen's face told him it was no excuse. "She said she wanted to…"

"Jareth, are you under the impression that I was born yesterday?" The Queen asked in a tone that told him she was at her limit with him; "Or that my magic is not a great as yours?" She crossed her arms akimbo over her bosom. "See here young man, I had only to walk into that room before the very walls told their story!"

Jareth took a long deep breath, "I may have allowed things to get a bit out of hand."

"Understatements," the Queen informed him. "Seem to abound with the men in this family." She placed a hand to her lips worriedly. "Your father worries only about what could happen if you… were to…. But he in his wildest dreams would never have thought you capable of this deed." The High Queen closed her eyes tightly. "Jareth, what do you intend to do?"

"I came here to even a score," he said firmly, with purpose.

"Even a score," shaking her head the Queen looked at her stepson. "My boy, don't you understand what comes of such actions? Have you not witnessed your father suffer when he himself made such claims?"

"I am a King, Madame," he drew away from her. "My honor must be avenged."

"The girl bested you," her voice was soft and low.

"Not fairly," he complained.

"Are you telling me that you played fairly?" The woman accused. His lips opened to lie, but he thought better of it and snapped his lips closed again. "I thought so," she sighed. Her hand moved forward to him again. "Have you considered the consequences of what is going to happen to this girl? Of how your…. " she blushed as red as the roses still blooming in the garden. "Will affect her?"

The young Fae King could not hide the smile, he could keep his mouth from curling but he could not hide the smile that was in his eyes.

The High Queen gave him a long cold look, "Jareth, sometimes you are worse than your father!"

--

Sarah thanked Carrie Reynolds for everything, the talk, the over nighter and for the wonderful trip to the Lapidary gallery. Becky promised to be there bright and early the next morning. Sarah waved the pair off and moved into the house. "I'm home," she called out.

Karen came out of the kitchen, "Sarah, did you have a nice time?"

"Pretty much," she said truthfully.

"Good," her stepmother was wiping her hands on her apron. "I'm just finishing dinner, if you could set the table after you put your things in your room it would be a big help." She turned and went back into her kitchen.

Sarah hauled her over night case and the garment bag with her costume back up stairs. Her room seemed suddenly so small to her. She shook off the tension that built up in her shoulders, and hung the garment bag in her closet. She would return the costume pieces up to the attic later she told herself. She returned to the main floor of the Victorian to join her step mother in the large kitchen. "What's for dinner?"

"Beef stew," Karen said stirring the pot carefully. "And fresh bread," she pointed to the oven.

"Great," Sarah said happily as she moved to the dinning room and the china hutch that Karen was so proud of. "I'll have the table set in no time."

--

Sarah watched her father during the meal, still wondering if she should say something about the night before. He seemed so at peace, and just happy to be sitting with the family that she could not bring herself to destroy this façade. She helped clear the table, and excused herself to her room with the excuse of needing to make sure her homework was ready for classes the next day.

Once in her room she collapsed on the bed, images of the night before still haunting her dreams. Even her waking dreams were no corrupted by the images of that storage closet. She was not sure she'd be able to face the morning. She was sure she didn't wish to hear Marcy's take on the evening's events. And of course she was going to have to see Jerry…. She closed her eyes telling herself it was not as bad as she thought it was. Exhausted, and feeling safe in her own room again, Sarah fell asleep.

--

A voice called out to her softly. "Turn back; this is not the right path…"

"Go no further," another deeper voice warned.

She turned and looked at the stone face that was giving her a very critical look. "No," she said shaking her head. "I'm dreaming."

"Are you?" one of the stone faces asked spitefully. "Or were you dreaming before and are awake now?"

"I left here over a year ago!" she declared stomping a foot.

"Did you?" another voice snickered maliciously. "Did you really?"

Hoggle had told her these were 'False alarms', and that they would try to confuse her. She was sure she was dreaming, she had left here, and somehow her mind was dragging her back. "You're just trying to confuse me." She said aloud.

"Fine then," one of the faces sneered. "Go ahead and go on."

Sarah placed a hand over the pounding in her chest; fear always caused her heart to pound. Her hand came into contact with the pin on her vest, the same pin that Jerry had fixed a few weeks earlier. "This is day residue," she told herself as she realized how she was dressed. The poet shirt felt different, tighter in places it had been loose before. And her jeans, like a second skin, caressed her body that was slightly curvier than before. She turned from the face and followed the same path that she'd taken with Hoggle. A few yards down the tunnel, she paused and wondered why it was Hoggle was not there to guide her.

At her feet, rolling along the floor was a crystal orb. Sarah looked at it in disbelieve. In the last year she'd had only a few fleeting dreams of this place. None had contained the orbs or the owner of those balls of glass. She girded herself with a firm resolve, and followed the orb, thinking she knew where it would lead her. Once more Sarah learned she had taken something for granted. Instead of the chamber in the tunnel that the Goblin King disguised as a beggar had been sitting in, she was now in the storage closet of Jerry King's gaming room. She turned to the door and tried the knob, it would not open. Even before she turned she knew she was not alone. She stared at the Goblin King, sitting with his arms crossed and looking a bit peeved. Finally she said in confusion; "What are you doing here?"

"It's your dream, girl. You tell me." He said in a tone that warned he was not in a mood for tomfoolery. He uncrossed his arms, and began tapping his foot expectantly. "Well?"

She turned back to the door and began to violently try to turn the knob. "Damn!" she muttered.

"Indeed," his voice answered.

"This is a dream," she said, placing her forehead on the door. "It's just a dream and you're not real."

"Not real," he snickered.

Sarah turned, looked over her shoulder. "No, you're not real. WE are not here."

"I see," his face held the same haughty gaze he'd given her during that first meeting. "Care to tell me why I'm in your dream?" he waved a gloved hand about at the walls of the closet. "Or why it is I'm in a closet with you?"

Sarah thought the walls were closing in on her. The space between them seemed much smaller than the space had been. "No, I don't think I'd like to do that."

Placing his hands on the edge of the chest he was seated on, just as Jerry had been, Jareth gazed at her with an odd look on his handsome face. "You've changed," he said in a tone that caused fire to dance on her spine.

"No," she shook her head. "I haven't."

His beautiful mismatched stormy eyes raked over her. "Yes, you have."

"I'm older," she corrected.

His gaze moved over her once again, slower, more deliberately. "So I see," he mused playfully. He chuckled as she turned back to the door. "Back view is as pleasant as the front, thank you."

Sarah spun, glared at him and demanded; "Why are you here?"

"You tell me," he replied smoothly. "It is after all your dream." She blanched, he moved on. "What is this place?"

"It's a storage closet," she whispered leaning back on the door that would not open.

"I can see that," he shifted, like he was about to rise, and she started backing further to the doo. "Take it easy," he warned raising one gloved hand. "I'm not use to sitting in one place for long…" he lied. When she relaxed visible, he motioned to the confined space. "So what happened in here, and why bring me into it?"

"Nothing happened in here," she lied, not very convincingly either. "I have no idea why my brain brought you here…"

"Perhaps you've missed me," he taunted playfully.

"Right," she placed a hand to her hip. "I've missed my worst nightmare."

He looked at her with mock indignation, "Sarah, it wasn't all bad, now was it?"

The small space filled with music, his music, the song he'd sung to her during their brief dance. "No," she sighed. "It wasn't all bad." Conceding would cost her nothing she mused, this was after all only a dream, and this was not the Goblin King at all. He smiled with the same romantic gaze he'd given her in that bubbled dream ball, and she shook herself. She closed her eyes tightly. "I don't want you here," she said harshly.

Jareth prepared to vanish or more exactly to be banished.

"You have no power over me," she said boldly and opened her eyes expecting to be alone. However the handsome Fae was still seated looking at her with a slightly surprised expression on his features. "Damn, you're still here!" she moaned.

"It appears something is keeping me here," he said looking at her with a come hither expression. She closed her eyes and moaned, he pressed it further. "Sarah, what happened in here?" His voice was soft as morning dew, and comforting.

"Nothing," she denied turning so he could not see her face.

"You are different," he observed for the second time.

"No, I'm just the same…." She shook the door knob again. She heard movement behind her, and knew he was no longer seated on the chest. Hands came to rest upon her shoulders, lightly and she froze. They moved slowly down her back, then moved to encircle her waist.

His lips went to her ear, "Sarah, have you wondered what it would have been like, had you allowed yourself to…" the words stopped, the girl shivered under his touch. He drew a long breath as he bent to her neck just under her ear. "Sarah." His mouth connected with her throat, the vein in her neck pulsing wildly.

Sarah closed her eyes, swallowed the lump in her throat. "No," she lied. "I never wonder."

"Liar," he whispered against her skin, letting his teeth graze against her flesh. His hands moved up her abdomen coming to rest just below her breasts. "Tell me why I'm here."

"I don't know," she gasped as he continued to kiss her throat in a long lingering method.

"Liar," he repeated, turning her until she was facing him, still held within his tender embrace. "You're not a little girl anymore… more to the point; you are not an innocent any longer…" His lips were a breath away from hers. "You brought me here, there must be a reason."

"No," she lied again.

"Is there something you've wondered about?" He asked mesmerizing her with his gaze, his breath bathed her face.

Her eyes were locked onto his, "I can't think of a thing," she whispered trembling in his embrace.

"Not even, this?" his mouth slanted over hers, softly, tenderly, and persistently in a long drawn out kiss that she was too shocked to resist. Her lips parted under his, inviting his tongue to enter, willingly or not, she was responding to him. He ended the kiss with a long soulful murmur. "Little girl, what games have you been playing?"

--

Sarah sat up in the bed, bathed in sweat, her heart pounding and the sound of a roaring in her ears. She looked about the dark room, unsure of what had seemed like a dream. Sarah wondered if she'd lost her mind. What the hell was she doing to herself, dreaming of that damned closet? Worse why would she conjure up the Goblin King and then go and KISS him?

--

Jareth sat up in his bed, bathed in sweat, heart pounding and a roaring in his ears. He felt disoriented, like he'd flown in a cyclone. He brushed back the hair that had covered his eyes. Had he just been dragged into a dream? Was that what had happened? He savored the taste of the kiss he'd shared with the Sarah as he lay back down on the soft pillows. Perhaps Thomas had a point; perhaps he should explore the idea of pursuing her as Jareth as well as Jerry. After all, she'd responded to his Goblin form with even more gusto than she had responded to the teen aged heart throb.

--

Sarah sat lost in her own thoughts on the ride to school Monday morning. Becky seemed only too willing to leave the girl in her thoughts as she had thoughts of her own to contend with. Tom had spent an hour on the phone with her the night before, begging her to be reasonable. She was still not certain she could be. She was still furious at being used. The VW pulled into the lot, and its driver maneuvered to the spot she preferred only to find Tom's car parked in the space beside it. "Damn," she said bringing Sarah back to reality.

Sarah looked out the window to find a contrite Jerry awaiting her. "Great," she huffed.

Tom had come around to Becky's door and was opening it for her. "His idea," he said pointing to Jerry.

Becky turned to see if Sarah were going to lose it or not.

Jerry pulled her out of the car and into his arms; his lips were at her ear. "I'm sorry Rabbit, I am."

She closed her eyes, his arms about her felt so natural, so comfortable. Nodding she nuzzled into the embrace. "I'm glad you're here, I didn't want to go into the school…alone."

Jerry raked fingers into the long silken strands of hair. "You never have to fear being alone," he rested his forehead to hers. "I'm here Rabbit."

Tom placed a hand to Becky's chin, "Pax?"

"Pax," she murmured. "For now," she added giving him a warning look.

Jerry took the text books out of Sarah's hand. "Let me carry your books." The girl surrendered the books and slid an arm about him. Together they moved toward the school followed by Tom with Becky on his arm. The gossips in the main hall of the school were silenced as the two couples entered with heads held high.

Marcy stopped in the story she was passing about, and glared. Laura placed a hand to Marcy's elbow. "Don't," she warned. "Just let them go."

Thomas moved to the stairs with Becky and called back to Jerry. "I'll be down in five, save me a seat!"

"Will do," Jerry called back as he moved with Sarah toward the study hall they shared for First period. He ushered Sarah in to the class past the open ogles and stares as well as the hoots and hollers of class mates who'd been at the party. He took the seat beside the girl, placing his arm over her shoulder as she read her text book one more time.

When the second bell rang Sarah gathered her things to leave, some boy shouted to Jerry. "So was she any good?"

Jerry stood up to walk Sarah to her next class, looked at the boy with disdain. "Do you really think Sarah Williams is that kind of girl?"

The boy paused before spurting, "Marcy said…"

"Marcy is that kind of girl, not my Sarah." He ushered her past the stares.

"Thank you," she whispered as they moved down the hall.

"You're welcome," he whispered back. "What's between us, is just that, between us." He looked at her. "Rabbit."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17.**

Oberon watched his Queen stroll in the garden unhurriedly, she seemed troubled, and listless. He worried that she was upset with his punishment of the boy. Though she had never voiced decent, he knew that the boy often tried even her. He pulled on his wool coat, opened the door, and moved out of the house. "My dear," he greeted his wife.

"Oberon," she murmured softly.

"Am I in trouble?" His voice was soft, tender.

"No," she looked at him bemused; "Not at all, why do you ask?"

"You don't agree with how I'm handling this incident." He observed keeping a little distance between them.

She shrugged. "He is your son," she sighed. "You've pointed that out to me more than once. As his parent you must do as you see fit."

He looked at the cloudy skies. "You don't agree with my handling." This time it was not a question, it was a statement of fact.

"No," She hugged her wrap closer. "I don't." Her voice was low, husky and troubled.

"You'd have handled it differently," he stated.

Her face became sad, "I'm not sure that I would have." She confessed. "And that troubles me so very deeply."

The High King offered her his arm. "If he is going to act like a child I shall be forced to treat him as one." He reasoned.

The Queen slipped her hand in to the arm she'd held for many long years. "What I fear Oberon, is that you've played into his hands by doing just that."

Oberon gave her words thought, "I may have," he agreed with a sigh. "I don't always understand the boy."

"He's very much his father's son," she warned not wishing to give more away. "Never forget that, my husband… he's very much like you. Don't underestimate the lengths he'd go to achieve a goal."

"Heaven help us."

"Indeed." The queen walked slow at the side of her husband.

Oberon considered her counsel and her guidance, a sly grin formed. "Well if the little one is going to play the old foxes games…." He smiled at his wife. "Tell me what you know of this girl, this Sarah Williams who has my sons undivided attention."

--

Tom yawned as they pulled slowly away from the school parking lot. "Three weeks of this and I'll go insane," he warned the Fae who was dropping his glamour. "I grow bored," he sighed. "I have no idea of how I'm supposed to survive until the end of the school year."

"Becky not an easy mark, eh?" Jareth teased.

"Mortal girls are not as easy as I was led to believe they were." Tom complained. "And Miss Reynolds is the least easy of them all, in spite of her free spirited ways. The girl has… morals."

"Afraid of a little work?" Jareth challenged.

Thomas dropped the teen glamour. "You should talk," he gloated. "Look how long it took you to get this far?" Jareth gave him a lazy grin, and Thomas sighed. "At least you've reached your objective and bowed low the girl. Even with your act of gallantry there will be rumors about her for years to come."

"Not low enough," Jareth mused. "There is still a way to go for her to know the depths that she dragged me to. I want her to _**beg**_ for _**mercy**_, to _**offer**_ me the _**world**_…no…" Jareth slammed a fist into the door panel. "I want her to _**offer**_ me her very _**soul**_!" Thomas sneered as he drove the streets of the town headed toward the estates and wealthy section. Jareth clenched his gloved hand. "I shall take such pleasure in turning her down, in walking away from her and watching her world collapse just as mine did."

"Ah but a mortal turning down a mortal is of little consequence." Thomas counseled. "They walk away from each other without so much as a flicker of conscious."

Jareth looked out the window at the landscape. "Ah, but this will be loves first sting…a rather traumatic event in a girl's life I've been told; it is a hurt that never quite fades with time." He pulled the fingers of the leather gloves tighter on his hands. "It is said a girl never forgets the name of her first love. That is what I want, I want Sarah to think on me and be filled with the same regrets she has caused me to feel."

"How much better if Jareth the Goblin King could take her down a few pegs as well;" He sighed. "Pity you can't invade her life or her dreams. The law being written as it is…"

"True, I can not invade her dreams," Jareth murmured softly. "However the law is open to shall we say, interpretation. It does not say I can not be invited into a dream, now does it? She's pulled me into her dreams, Thomas." Jareth said with a smug look on his face. "If she does so again I'm free to take what measures I deem fit."

Thomas gave him a suspicious gaze, "Sarah pulled you into a dream?" Lowering his voice an octave, "I don't believe it."

"Believe it or not," Jareth boasted. "And you won't believe what she was dreaming of…."

The other Fae snorted, "I doubt it matters, mortal dreams are so mundane."

"The storage closet," Jareth snickered.

The smile faded from Thomas' face. "Jareth, why would she pull you, a Fae King into such a setting?"

"Do I look like Freud to you?" Jareth asked becoming irritable. He didn't want to think or to analyze why the girl had pulled him into the dream. He didn't wish to think too hard on what he was doing or how the girl had reacted to him in the dream… or for that matter how she was reacting to Jerry King. He refused to feel guilt.

"Jareth, just what did go on in that closet?" Thomas asked. "I know what you said she did… but how did it come about?" Getting a blank stare, Thomas rephrased the inquiry. "Whose idea was it, anyway?"

"Marcy's," Jareth said looking peckish.

"Marcy's?" Thomas repeated and gave a low whistle. "And Sarah just went right along with it?"

"Well I think the amount of vodka Sarah had been swigging had something to do with it." Jareth mused; "That and Marcy's offer to suck me off right there and then in front of everyone."

"I imagine she would have too," Thomas said coldly. "That girl has no concept of discretion."

"Sarah stood up and ordered Marcy to get her fucking hands off me. That I was her boyfriend and that if anyone was giving me a blow job, it was going to be her." Jareth chuckled softly remembering the sight of the tipsy Sarah. "Then she dragged me off to the closet, shoved me to sit down on the storage chest and demanded my… cock." He looked down at his lower anatomy with pride.

"You had to get her liquored up for her to do that," Thomas badgered; "And in this dream?"

The snickering smile faded, and Jareth paused in thought. "It was different… she was different… and unsure of herself."

"I see…. And you took advantage?"

Jareth looked out the window again. "I gave her a kiss."

Thomas pulled the car over, and looked at his companion; "A kiss? Did she resist you?"

Jareth remembered the moment in the dream, and closed his eyes. "No, she did not." He sighed and allowed himself to remember and savor the dream kiss.

--

Sarah was sitting in her room, finishing the English assignment, when she was called down to the foyer. Karen was holding the phone out to her and mouthed the word. 'Jerry.' Sarah took a seat, and a deep breath. "Hello," she said softly.

"Rabbit," the voice on the other end crooned. "I was thinking about you." His voice went several octaves lower, and he gave her a throaty growl.

Sarah was thankful Karen had gone to the kitchen to work on dinner; she blushed as the boy on the other end flirted with her. "Really?" she asked timidly. This having a boyfriend was unchartered waters for Sarah. She shook her head, "I can't stay on the phone, I'm doing homework… don't you have any?"

"Nope, did it at school." He said lazily. "I've got time on my hands, and all I can think about is you…"

"Sure," she said distrusting.

"Rabbit," he growled. "Don't you have the least feelings of sympathy for me?"

"No," she said frowning. "I don't." The other end went very still, Sarah wondered if she'd made a blunder with her honesty.

After a long pause, the voice said. "Well, I don't suppose I can blame you for that, not after I shanghaied you, and after the game. Of course I'll never be able to into the game room with out smiling."

Sarah bit at her lower lip, looked to see if Karen was still working, seeing she was Sarah whispered urgently into the phone. "I don't want to talk about it!"

A throaty laugh on the other end was followed by a veiled threat. "Oh Rabbit, we're going to do more than just talk about it."

"I have to go now Jerry," she stood up, feeling cornered by someone who was not even there.

"Run, Rabbit, run…." He teased.

Sarah hung up the phone, without saying goodbye or anything. She ran up the stairs; the sounds of the throaty laughter ringing in her ears.

--

Jareth hung up the phone in his room, he was glad the house had more than one line. He could see Sarah run up the stairs, as he watched her in a crystal while he'd been talking to her on the phone. "Run, Rabbit," he growled suggestively. "Run right for the trap."

--

Robert sat down to dinner with the family, he seemed preoccupied by something. After the first few mouthfuls he looked over at his daughter. "Sarah," he began the conversation quietly. "I had a visit at the office this afternoon that might interest you."

"Oh," she looked over at him. "Who?"

"Mr. King… Mr. Auberon King, Jerry's father." Robert said calmly.

The sound of Sarah's fork falling to her plate was thunderous, at least to her. She looked over at her father. "Mr. King? What did he want?" Was that a squeak in her voice she wondered?

"Oh to introduce himself mostly," Robert moved his food about on the plate. "He seems a very decent sort… and he voiced the same concern that I have…"

Karen shook her head, but Sarah followed her father's lead. "And that would be?"

"That Jerry is a bit too old and … worldly for you." Robert looked at his daughter. Sarah's mouth dropped open, but no words came. Her father scowled. "He is older than you, and he's lived all over the world…"

Karen cleared her throat, giving her husband a meaningful expression and tapped her fork lightly on the plated. "Robert," her voice was curt.

"Well he is!" Robert returned to his dinner. "He's jet set, and Sarah is…not. Nor do I want her to be. Lord only knows what kind of a crowd he's run with all over the world. If you ask me that boy is a bit of a rogue," he looked over at his daughter once more. "Both Mr. King and I are concerned, and I assured him you are a most level headed girl."

Sarah didn't know is she should laugh hysterically with relief, or to cry protesting what was of course a particular truth. Jerry King was older, more experienced and an obvious danger to Sarah's virtue. But her father calling her level headed had to be the biggest laugh of all. Sarah Williams, the girl who the entire school called a dewy eyed dreamer, level headed? Not by a long shot. Sarah moved her food on her plate, if anything she was a hopeful romantic.

--

Sarah sat at the vanity brushing her hair, muttering to herself as she stroked the bristles though her long hair. She tossed the brush aside and looked at her reflection. Her father had called Jerry a rogue and her level headed. One assessment was pretty accurate, Jerry was roguish. He had tricked her into attending a party that had not been cleared with either his or her parents. He had allowed the party to get out of hand. Actually, now thinking about it, he only allowed it to get out of hand where he wanted it. He had been the one to open the liquor cabinet, he had been the one to spike the punch, and he had been the one to suggest the drink, dare or kiss rules to the Spin the Bottle game played. "I was set up all the way!" she muttered. "Damn his hide."

She stood up, pacing the floor. He had not protested when Marcy plopped her self down beside him. He had used that to spur Sarah on in the game. The more she thought about it, the more she began to see what her father and Mr. King were worried about. Jerry was directing her on a path that could lead to one thing. 'Well he's going to be disappointed,' she thought to her self bitterly. 'If I didn't fall into the arms of a handsome Fae King…' she shook violently. Was she actually comparing the English boy to the Goblin King?

Sarah turned off the lights, and crawled into her bed, she found that nice comfy spot, and soon fell into sleep.

--

She was in a dark passage, long, straight and narrow with walls that were so high she could not see over them. She could hear sounds, familial sounds, sounds of a party. The same records that had played at the birthday bash were playing on the other side of the wall. Sarah stopped walking; she looked down and found herself in the kimono yet again. 'I'm dreaming,' she told herself. 'Because I was obsessing over this before I went to bed.' She sighed relieved that she was not in the storage closet.

"Well, well, what have we here?" A voice behind her said in the lazy drawl that could belong only to Jareth the Goblin King.

Sarah placed a hand to her brow as she shook here head. "Not you again," she moaned.

"Fine how do you do," he snorted. "Coming here was not my idea you know."

Sarah turned, expecting to see him dressed as he had been in the dream of last night. She expected to see the black as midnight cape fluttering on the gentle breeze that seemed to be present. However Jareth was not attired as he'd been in that dream. This time he was dressed in the same garments that he'd worn in the tunnel. Sarah blushed and turned away, too aware of him, far more than she had been a year ago; "Don't you own anything conservative?" she complained.

"This is conservative," he retorted slightly miffed. "So, Madame Butterfly, where are we this time?"

Sarah would have liked to beat her head on the wall, but was fearful of what that could do to her already fleeing senses. She took a deep breath, turned and faced her nemesis. "I'm not exactly sure where we are…" She decided that since there seemed to be no way around it, she would let the dream play out. "This is how I was dressed for a costume party a few nights ago… and the sounds you hear," she pointed to the air. "That's the sounds of the party." She looked at the passage that was ahead of them. "I have no idea where this goes, if it goes anywhere." Gradually she turned her green eyes back on the face of the Goblin King. "And I don't know why you're here either…dressed like…" she waved her hand at his attire. "That."

Jareth looked down at his brown dragon's hide leather jacket; he raised a brow, concerned. "What's wrong with my attire?" He looked down to his dove gray fitted breeches and the boots that completed his outfit.

"Nothing," Sarah admitted in a slightly dreamy manner. "It's just every girls…" she turned away blushing.

He moved closer. "Every girls what, Sarah?" his voice saying her name made the common name sound special, like a caress, and Sarah knew he was the only one who did that.

"I'm sure you know your affect on the female of the species." She shivered as he breathed at her ear.

He chuckled softly, engagingly. "I'm more interested in it's affect on one girl just now." He teased.

Sarah closed her eyes, groaning. "Okay, I admit it, you're hot…there, are you happy?"

"How hot?" he moved closer.

"Don't do this Goblin King," she warned.

"Do what?" he feigned innocents.

She turned and looked at him, her face was not angry, but she was not happy either. "This," she waved her hand at him. "This cat and mouse game you insist on playing. I'm not amused by it."

His face softened, the teasing gone from his eyes. "What would amuse you, I wonder?" He placed one hand to her cheek, the leather of his glove moved smoothly over her creamy skin.

"Don't do that," she heard the husky sound of her own voice say.

"You keep dragging me into your dreams of late, Sarah." He gazed at her with serene eyes. "There must be a reason."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of being analyzed, and I surely don't want to be analyzed by you, Goblin King." She snapped harshly.

"Jareth," he said softly.

"What?" she blinked.

"My name," he sighed. "I prefer to be called by my name."

Sarah stared at him, was he kidding? No, the look in his beautiful stormy eyes told her he was not joking; he wanted her to call him by his name. Something about that both thrilled and frightened her. There was something important about using his name and for the life of her, she could not or would not remember what it was. "You want me to call you by your name?"

"Always the quick one," he mused. "You know my name, I know you've been told it… why not use it?"

It sounded so reasonable, so logical, Sarah shook her self. "Stop that," she slapped his hands away. "I'm having enough trouble thinking here without your pawing me." She snapped.

Jareth lowered his hands, smiled and shrugged. "Which way do we go? Left or right?"

Sarah looked at the corridor, "I don't know," she confessed sadly. "If I were in the Labyrinth I could tell you… but I have no idea where this goes if anywhere. I mean look at it, do you see any openings or brakes in this wall?"

He looked peacefully down the corridor. "It's your dream, where do you want to go?"

"Where do I want to go?" She repeated sounding like a myna bird. "I'm not directing this dream," she complained.

"Of course you are," Jareth insisted. "You brought both of us here, dressed us in these garments for some reason and you are the one who has to decide where we go from here."

Sarah looked at the passage again, facing as she had been when the King joined her. "Forward," she announced sounding sure of herself.

"Forward it is," he moved to her side as she stepped forward. He looked at her; she was shorter than he was, but not by much, perhaps a few inches. Four at most, it would place her head at his shoulder, a thought that pleased him. "It's a nice costume, Sarah. Do you know anything about it?"

"It belongs to Becky's mother," Sarah said in a noncommittal tone.

Jareth chuckled again, it was like quicksilver, and the girl looked at him. "I didn't ask who owned it; I asked if you know anything about it."

"No," Sarah admitted. "I don't." Her eyes moved forward again. "Do you?"

"Actually yes, I do." He said sounding mature and wise beyond human understanding. "It is the robe of a Maiko, an apprentice geisha." He watched as her face looked slightly startled. "Do you know anything about geishas?"

"Not really," she said. "I know that most westerners think they are prostitutes, but that's a mistaken idea."

"Right," he said confidently.

Sarah looked down at the outfit, "I suppose you know all about Geishas and Maikos."

"I know a great many things," he boasted. "I know that Maiko are easily recognized by their attire. The dress of the Maiko is more outlandish than that of the mature Geisha. The Obi and Kimono of a Maiko is brightly colored and ornately decorated, with long flapping sleeves that fall to the floor. While beautiful to look at Maiko are still young girls, so the social mastery they are expected to attain as accomplished Geisha is still not fully formed and Maiko are usually expected to dance, and be seen, and though performing tasks such as filling drinks they are not intended to entertain guests to the same degree as a Geisha." His voice trailed off.

Sarah stopped walking, looked at him sideways, "Are you saying I'm… just a little girl playing dress up?"

"It's not my dream," he pointed out with an indulgent smile. "You do seem to always take on the virginal roles in dreams though, don't you?" He asked scathingly. "Here as a Maiko, and in the Labyrinth you took on that white sugar plum fairy get up."

"I didn't do that, you did!" she accused hotly.

"Sarah," his voice went low and husky, deeper than even Jerry's voice on the phone. "If I were dressing you, it would not have been in a white gown with puffy sleeves and a wide hooped skirt."

"It wouldn't have been?" She found herself staring at his mouth, so sensual, so close, so far.

"No," he murmured slowly. "It would have been in something far more revealing, and most assuredly it would not have been virginal white." He placed a hand under her chin, "Jade green, sapphire blue or scarlet, but not … white." The touch of his gloved hand sent shivers dancing down her spine, and weakened her knees. He took a step closer. "Even now, you put up stumbling blocks and obstructions, little Maiko."

Sarah watched his lips, she saw them move, heard the words, but could not move. "Jareth," she whispered his name, "I don't know…"

"Shhhhh," he whispered, lowered his hand to her throat. "You think too much." He moved forward on the path, while the girl stood still.

Sarah watched him move down the corridor at a steady measured pace. She knew her lips were trembling and she felt like crying, not sure why, but she was miserable. Slowly she followed him. "That's not fair." She stated. "I can't help being… innocent."

Jareth turned, looked at her with amusement and said candidly. "I said virginal, I did not use the word innocent."

She quickened her steps, "Not innocent?" She looked and realized they were no longer in the corridor, the sounds of the party had stilled and once more they were in the storage closet. "Not again," she whined.

Jareth took a seat on the storage chest. "I had a feeling this was where we were headed." He sounded amused. "Care to tell me now what is so special about this place?" Jareth asked in a kindly conversational voice.

Sarah turned her back to him, facing the door she knew would not open. "I have no idea," she lied smoothly.

Sitting on the edge of the trunk, Jareth reached forward, his gloved fingertips moved to her waist. In one gentle and smooth movement he had pulled her back into his embrace. "Little one," he breathed in her ear. "I have not lied to you, don't lie to me."

Sarah looked down, she was not sure she could accept or deny what he was saying. Perhaps he had not lied to her here; she was not even sure now he'd ever lied to her in the Labyrinth. "If I ask you something," she sounded so young to her own ears. "Will you tell me the truth?"

"Of course;" He answered truthfully.

Sarah turned in his fingers, until she was face to face with him. "Did you cause this dream?"

"No," he said honestly. "It would be easy enough to do, were I not under certain obligations. But no, I didn't cause this dream, I'm here as your guest."

"What do you mean, under certain obligations?"

He looked at her, so young, even for her age, and so unaware. "Sarah, you do know that the Fae are subject to Laws."

"Everyone is subject to laws," she murmured.

"Escheat," he said softly. "The second law of Eschant, the right to dream… mortals have the right to dream unhindered by our needs." He answered.

"Then why are you here?" she asked with trembling lips. "Why are you here, Jareth?"

Cocking his head to one side, he smiled; "Because you want me here, Sarah."

The girl looked at him, knowing he was right. "Yes, I want you here," she found herself saying.

Jareth moved his fingers, until they laced behind her back. With little effort he drew her forward. "Whatever happened in here matters not," he told her in dulcet tones. "What matters is what you want to happen." He smiled as her hands moved to his shoulders of their own accord. "Tell me Sarah, tell me what you want."

Sarah blinked. "I want…" she looked confused, disturbed and unsure.

"What do you want?" he asked again, gently insistent.

"Kiss me, Jareth," it was a tender request, one froth with innocence.

Drawing her closer, he answered her request. His lips moved over hers with a tender sweep. He knew her heart was pounding, he could hear each quickened beat. He felt the rumble of the moan building in her throat before her mouth opened to allow its escape. His tongue entered the open passage, and he plundered her mouth as his hands separated. One hand held her at the small of her back as the other cradled the back of her head. He deepened the kiss expecting her to bolt.

Sarah inhaled deeply, unable to get enough of that heady spicy scent that always accompanied the Goblin King. She found herself unable to satisfy the hunger that was now gnawing at her soul. Her tongue moved in a wild tango with his, and she tilted her head to one side. The hand cradling the back of her head was now weaving fingers into the elaborate hair style of the geisha she was sporting. The hand at the small of her back was making tiny, gently circles. She murmured a soft sound of the first stages of arousal.

Jareth pulled free of the kiss, looked at her in bewilderment. "Just where did you learn that?" he asked.

"I don't know," she confessed, heart pounding and a roar in her ears.

--

Sarah awoke finding it hard to breath; she sat up and cried softly. "No, no, no… oh God, please no…"


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18.**

Awakening with a capricious grin, Jareth lay in the bed bolstered by the myriad of pillows; lacing his hands behind the wild locks of hair on the back of his head. The girl had drawn him into the dream and because she had, no one could accuse him of breaking the law. He had spoken truthfully to her, and had allowed her to guide the direction of the dream. It was far more pleasing to his twisted sense of vengeance to allow her to be her own undoing. He had not expected her to request the kiss, nor had he expected her to respond quite so enthusiastically. Yet she had, and he found himself basking in the after glow of her awakening passions. It mattered little to him which of his self-images she responded to. All that really mattered was that she was responding to him.

He knew that she was under the enchantment of having tasted him. Now she had sampled his tongue several times in dreams, he was sure that was it was as powerful as what had befallen her in the storage closet. Perhaps it was even more powerful, for she was far more willing a participant in the dreams than she had been in the closet. He rolled to his side, thinking of how best to use this new development to his advantage. He would allow this game to play out a bit more. During waking hours he would pursue her as Jerry King, in the dreams he'd pursue her as Jareth… and may the best man win. "I told you Rabbit," he said taking on the glamour of the teen heart throb; "I always get what I want."

--

Sarah looked slightly lethargic and heavy-eyed when she entered the kitchen for breakfast the next morning. Karen looked over at her with concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," Sarah said with little enthusiasm.

"Didn't you sleep well?" Karen asked placing a bowl of hot cereal down for the girl.

"I had a lot on my mind," she lied. "Tests coming up, you know."

"Of course," her step mother nodded and took a seat opposite her. "Oh, when are the SAT's?"

"I don't know," Sarah said softly; "Next week or the week after I think." 'Just what I need,' thought the girl. 'More pressure.'

Karen sipped her coffee, "Sarah, have you thought about where you'd like to apply for college?"

The cereal suddenly tasted like sawdust. "No," she said dropping the spoon. "Karen," she pleaded with the woman. "Can we not talk about this… just now?"

Karen looked with deepening concern at her stepdaughter. "Sarah, is something wrong?"

Tears were forming. "No."

The woman in pink stood up and came around the table to place a hand on the girl's shoulders. "It's okay," she told the girl. "Calm down, you're wound tighter than a Swiss watch." The girl laughed weakly, and the woman went on. "Take a few deep breaths, and just do your best." she encouraged the girl.

"Karen…" Sarah was going to confide her strange dream when the sound of a VW's distinctive horn sounded. "I have to go." She said slowly.

"Have a good day," the woman encouraged again.

Sarah picked up her books and headed to the front door. The walk out to the car felt as if she were walking her last mile, facing an execution. She opened the door and looked at Becky who seemed to be upset about something. "Do I want to know?" she asked getting into the vehicle.

Becky looked at the other girl, her expression was grim. "Mr. King paid a call on our house… Daddy wasn't home, but he gave my mom an earful."

"He did?" Sarah questioned distractedly. "That's odd, he went to my father's office and the only thing they talked about was Jerry being too old for me."

"Mom said he didn't bring up what happened between you and Jerry," Becky said turning her little car into the light traffic on Sarah's block. "So she didn't say anything about it either, a sort of 'he didn't ask, and I'm not telling', maneuvering on her part." Becky was soon traveling in the direction of the High School. "Mom said he was digging for information, and she was not about to give him more than she thought he could handle."

"He doesn't know about the closet," Sarah decided thinking about what his reactions should have been. "As far as he knows, he came in on Jerry trying to push me into going up stairs with him."

Becky shrugged. "Mom says he's the kind that finds things out." The girl with red hair warned. "So if I was you, I'd watch my step for a while. He's going to be looking for someone to trip up…" she looked at Sarah sideways. "What is wrong with you today? You look like shit."

"I feel like it too," Sarah moaned. "I'm having the weirdest dreams, Becky."

"Dreams about Jerry?" her friend asked.

"Indirectly," Sarah ran a hand over her brow. "I hear the party, but in a corridor that I can't get out of. One that seems to go on forever, no twists or truns…and then I'm in that God Damned closet."

"With Jerry," Becky said confidently.

"No," Sarah said with a measure of guilt. "Not with Jerry."

"Someone else?" Becky looked at her in surprise, and smiled cockily. "Well, well, aren't you the randy little miss." She teased. They were entering the school parking lot. "So, come on, tell me about this secret man."

"There's nothing to tell," Sarah lied.

"Ha!" Cackled Becky good naturedly. "I'll bet. Oh come on, Sarah. I'm not going to tell anyone. Not even Tom," she pulled into her space. "I promise." Turning off the engine she turned to her friend. "Tell me."

"His name is Jareth…" Sighed in exasperation; "The thing is I don't think we actually like each other."

"I don't know any Jareth here at school," Becky looked at her with an odd expression. "That's an unusual name." She rested her arm on the back of the seat and propped up her head with her hand. "So when and where did you meet this person?"

"A little over a year ago," Sarah's face changed expressions speaking of that time. "We were involved in a sort of contest of wills."

"Who won?"

Sarah blushed, "I did."

"Did you get what you wanted?" Becky teased.

"Pretty much, yeah," Sarah said, before thinking about her answer, pausing she corrected the answer. "No… I didn't."

"What's this Jareth like?" Becky was stalling not really wanting to go into the school just yet.

"Powerful, willful, smart, cunning and very, very sexy;" Sarah said with a cryptic smile.

Becky leaned forward. "Sexier than say, Jerry?"

Sarah closed her eyes, leaned back and remembered the handsome Fae King standing in her parent's nursery. "Oh God yes," she groaned softly as a warm feeling flooded her being. She could have lost herself in that feeling had a tapping not begun at the window she was seated next to. Sarah looked over and saw Jerry's face. "Oh no," she moaned.

"Sorry," Becky said quietly. "I didn't see them pull in or I wouldn't have started this conversation."

Sarah nodded, sighed and unlocked her door. "Morning Jerry." She said exiting the VW.

"Rabbit," He greeted her as he put an arm over her shoulder. "Missed me?"

'Like the plague,' she thought to herself but muttered; "Of course."

Jerry gave her an odd look, as if he had read her mind. "Are you angry with me?" he asked taking her books.

"No," she said quickly. "I'm preoccupied, I've two tests today."

Sliding an arm over her shoulder he seemed placated.

Tom looked at his girl, "Becky how do you feel about hayrides?" He held up a pair of tickets to the Senior Class Hayride that would be held on Thanksgiving weekend.

Becky squealed with delight, forgiving the boy all his faults. "Tom, you are wonderful!" She threw her arms about the boy's neck and kissed him soundly before grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the school.

--

Jerry sat reading over Sarah's shoulder in the study hall, "Sarah, I'll be getting off this stupid grounded shit… would you like to go on that hayride?"

"If you would," she answered not paying attention.

"I'll get the tickets today," he said knowing there were tickets in his pocket already. This just made it look like he was thinking of her instead.

Sarah looked up from her studies, "What, oh…okay."

--

Sarah dreaded going to bed, three nights of Goblin King dreams was three nights too many in her point of view. And what was all that kissing he had been doing with her? Where the hell was that coming from? After all, if she were going to dream of kissing, shouldn't it be with Jerry, her boyfriend?

She tossed her brush down and stared at the mirror. "Hoggle," she whispered urgently. "Hoggle, I need you." She waited, expecting something. Something small perhaps, like seeing the gnomish man over her shoulder as he had been that night she had beaten the Goblin King; or perhaps seeing him peeping out of her window. Nothing happened and Sarah felt unexpectedly and unexplainably alone. She bit her lower lip, not blaming the dwarf for abandoning her. It had been more than six months since she'd even thought of him or her other Labyrinth Underground friends. She paced the floor, making excuses for not going to sleep. At eleven, her father tapped on the door.

"Lights out young lady, you need your sleep." His voice commanded.

"Yes, Daddy…goodnight;" She turned out the light obediently and crawled into her bed. "Sleep…" she muttered. "Just sleep, no dreams…" she told herself aloud.

--

Jareth curled up in the bed and closed his eyes, knowing soon she'd call for him, and he wanted to be ready.

--

Sarah found herself once more in the underground tunnel, this time all of the False alarms seemed to be asleep, eyes closed and unseeing. There were the sounds of heavy sleep in the hall and some of the faces were even snoring. Sarah crept past them softly, until she was once more in the little chamber where Jareth had been waiting for her in the beggars disguise. This time the chamber was empty, except for the discarded disguise on the dusty floor of the chamber.

Stooping, she reached down to retrieve the clay mask that was attached to the brown felt hat and blue cloth that had been used to help disguise Jareth. Her hands trembled as she held them. On a whim she donned the cap, and draped herself with the cloth, wrapping it over her arms and holding it close. She brought it up to her nose and took a whiff. After all this time the spicy scent still clung to the fabric, filling her senses and making her slightly dizzy. Her back was to the spot that Jareth had been seated when he wore the elaborate guise. She didn't see him forming as she rocked back and forth, side to side, breathing in the scent of the Goblin King.

Jareth watched her with amused eyes, and hated having to disturb her. "That looks better on you than it did on me," he said softly at last.

Sarah froze, her eyes popped open, and she knew she was no longer alone. "J..J..Jareth?"

"s..s… Sarah," he mocked her gently.

She turned, looking at him with indignation. "What are you doing here?"

"Watching," he said in answer.

"Watching what?"

"You," he said rising form the ledge he'd been parked on; "Watching you, Sarah."

Sarah shivered, and pulled the clothe closer hoping it would stave off the sudden chill she was experiencing. "There's nothing to see."

"Oh I wouldn't say that," he crooned coming dangerously closer, his eyes raking over her.

Sarah wondered why the hell it had gotten so cold, until she looked down. Gasping she pulled the long blue cape tighter around her now naked form. "Why did you do that?"

"I didn't," he said honestly. "I'm not complaining, but alas I cannot take credit for this." He teased.

"I don't believe you," she snapped.

"Sarah Williams, this is your dream, not mine… although I must admit, it does fire my imagination." Jareth taunted with a gentle voice. "As I said, my disguise looks far better on you."

"You did this," she began her harangue.

"NO," he stopped her forcefully. "This is your dream."

"Why are you here?" she moaned. "Why like this? And what did you do with my clothes?"

Jareth stood nonchalantly, placed on hand behind his back as was the style in a time long gone by. "My dear little girl," he said taking offense. "Do you think I've nothing better to do with my time than to undress teenaged girls who happen to drag me into their oversexed libido directed dreams?"

Sarah hung her head, guilt made her vulnerable and she didn't get pleasure from knowing he was right. "What is happening to me?" she muttered before she could stop herself. She walked away from him, to put her head on the wall. It was a moment later she realized that was a mistake. She didn't have to look to know he had followed her and was standing over her in the same manner as he had during the first visit to these tunnels. She could feel the heat of his body radiating though his jacket.

Placing a hand to her waist, gently, he murmured in her ear. "All dreams have a purpose, you can't out run them."

"I shouldn't have gone to sleep," she whispered to her self. When the firgers on her waist tightened she gave a startled squeaky gasp. She looked over her shoulder at him. "What do you think you're doing," she pulled the fabric tightly about her body, making sure she was completely covered.

Jareth smiled at her. "What a lovely little Goblin you would make," he murmured with musical quality to his voice.

Sarah turned, her back flattened up on the wall, she looked at his body language and remembered how he had been that first time. He was exactly the same now, his face held the same amused and exciting expression, and his eyes were giving her the same devouring raking over. She swallowed; "Are you flirting with me?" she asked in disbelieve.

"Am I?" he answered her question with one of his own.

"You…" she paused, her heart pounding so loud, so hard she was fearful he could hear it when she opened her mouth to speak. "You are," she said at last. "You're flirting with me…"

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked in a tempting tone.

"No," she said feeling warmth spread and she knew she was blushing from head to toe.

He leaned closer, tilting his head slightly, not wishing to have an eye poked out by the mask she was still wearing on her head. He smiled at her, charmingly, and was rewarded with a confused little Mona Lisa smile on the girl's face. "Sarah," he breathed her name moving closer, looking at her lips, before looking into her eyes. She tilted her face, just slightly as she looked into the stormy eyes that were focused on her. His hand was still at her waist, it began to move behind her, gathering her closer as he closed the space between their lips. Sarah's lashes fluttered in a long sweeping dance, coming to rest on her flushed cheeks, her lips parted under his. His hand rested in the small of her back, tenderly making lazy circles. He stalled the progress of the kiss for only a moment. "Don't you want to hold me?" He asked smoothly as his lips moved softly over hers.

"I can't," she answered opening her eyes and biting down on her lip, pinching his lower lip as well as hers. "If I let go…I'll be exposed."

Jareth pulled back, smiled charmingly and murmured. "Do you really think there's an inch on you I'm not acquainted with?"

Sarah blushed deeper. "This is not fair."

He laughed, not the gloating laughs she'd experienced at his hands in the Underground, but a tender affectionate laugh of a long time sweetheart. "OH Sarah." He rested his forehead to hers. "Sometimes your… innocence is just so damned adorable." He moved the hand at her back down to rest on the roundness of her fanny.

"Don't do that," she begged. "Don't ruin this moment. Not when I'm liking you."

Jareth's hand moved back up to the small of her back. "Liking me?"

She nodded, unable to find words, and closed her eyes, fearful of seeing mockery in his.

The Fae male regarded her for a moment; it was after all her dream, not his. He could afford to indulge her, this once. "I'm liking you, too."

Green eyes opened again, looked soulful into the stormy blue ones. "I didn't understand." She whispered plaintively.

"What?" He asked wondering where she was going.

"In the tunnel, just before you took time from me…I didn't understand what you were doing." She looked embarrassed and uncomfortable upon the small admission. She shrugged, shifting her grip of the blue cloth that covered her nakedness. "No one had ever flirted with me that way before."

Jareth seemed to be considering her words, he looked at her thoughtfully. His expression became something Sarah had not seen before on the Fae King, it became shy; "And now Sarah?" His face moved closer, his lips were so close she could feel the heat coming off them. "Now?"

"Jareth," her voice sounded like it was pleading.

His lips grazed over hers, the tip of his tongue sliding over the outline of her tenderly bruised and lust swollen lips. His hand cradled her back as he deepened his kiss, wanting to touch her soul. He closed his eyes, enjoying that she was responding with equal desires, opening them sharply when he became aware that her arms were now wound about his waist. He could feel the heat of her body pressed to his. He closed his eyes again, triumphantly.

Sarah awake and looked around her room, it was nearly daylight. She pulled the cover closer when she realized her night clothes lay in a rumpled pile beside her bed. She bit her lip, dazed and confused. "Well," she sighed. "At least I didn't find myself in that closet." She mused before pulling on her robe and hurrying off to the bath.

--

Jareth sat up in the bed, confused and mystified by his actions and reactions. "Damn bewitching little minx." He muttered as he rose to face another day of punishment and imprisonment in a teen aged body. "I almost wish someone would wish a child away," he mumbled under his breath as he stood beneath the shower. "I never thought the day would come when I'd be missing the Goblins."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19.**

Jareth began to look forward to the nightly visits with Sarah. Each of the visits since the naked tunnel incident had taken place in various places the girl had visited in the underground. All but the crystal ballroom and he could not truly blame her mind for staying far from there. He watched as she had danced with the fieries. He sat beside her in the darkness of the oubliette. Held her hand strolling though the deep woods and chased her playfully thought the private maze. Night after night lulling her into a sense of comfort that he was planning to use to trap her with.

During the waking hours he played the teenaged boyfriend to the hilt. Perhaps a bit too well, he mused. He had offered to feed teeth to one of the jocks, his own, when the jock made a comment that had been spurred on by Marcy's malicious tales. Day after day, he was falling into a routine and it was starting to wear on his Goblin nerves. He found himself missing the freedom that he prized so highly in his own kingdom.

With less than a week left of his punishment, he was surprised when the Sunday before Thanksgiving, he found the parlor being set up for some kind of reception. He asked one of the goblins what was going on and they only shrugged. He moved to his father's study where both the High King and Queen were in conference. Tapping at the door he waited to be bid entry.

Oberon looked at his son, "I would suggest you get the glamour up and keep it up." The High King said sternly.

"I noticed the parlor is being dressed for a reception," Jareth said putting on the Jerry guise. "What is going on?"

"A little open house," his father said coyly.

"Who's coming?" Jareth asked in Jerry's crisp English accent.

The High Queen moved back while the High King stood like a conquering warrior over his son; "The Williams, the Reynolds and your little playmate Thomas and his faux parents."

Jareth gasped. "No, you'll ruin everything!" The younger King accused.

"Oh, indeed?"

Jareth shook with fury, "I don't understand why you insist on sticking your nose in this Father."

"Someday, if and when you become a father, you will." The elder said calmly, and the younger King huffed before turning and exiting. "Well, my dear, are you ready to receive guests?" The High Queen already in a splendid receiving gown nodded and accepted his hand as they moved toward the parlor where they would receive the guests.

--

Sarah sat in the back seat of the family sedan keeping Toby busy. They had left church, and were driving along, she looked up and noticed they were not headed home. "Dad, you're going the wrong way," she said abstractly.

"No I'm not," her father said quietly. "We're not going home."

Sarah looked at the road, and knew where they were headed. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Jerry's parents invited a few of us over for an open house," Karen said turning in her seat. "Wasn't that nice?"

Sarah sat back and covered her face with a hand. "Oh no," she moaned. She had not been back to the King home since the night of the party and really, really didn't want to go there now. In the past few weeks her dreams had been of the Labyrinth and its King… she really dreaded the effect going back to the scene of the crime would have on her.

Jerry stood at the front door when the Williams car pulled in. He looked grim, and painted on a smile to greet the parents of his girlfriend. As he led them into the house he whispered to Sarah. "This was not my idea."

"I didn't think it was," Sarah told him in a curt whisper.

Jerry made the introductions, and repeated them as the Reynolds arrived as well as when the faux Bradley's arrived. The Williams and the Reynolds were seated comfortably, and the refreshments were being served. Karen commented to Mrs. King on what a lovely home they had.

Mr. King chuckled softly. "Not bad for a rental, but this…" with a flourish waved about the room. "This is not home."

"You'll have to forgive my husband," Mrs. King said pleasantly. "He's a bit overly proud of our true home, to hear him tell it, it's Paradise." She stirred her coffee slowly as she spoke.

Mr. King took a seat, "I wouldn't leave home if business didn't take me away… and Jerry there would have been in university by now had we not had to up root him."

"Father," Jerry groaned, embarrassed.

Carrie Reynolds listened to the man speak, and looked confused. "Your accent is so… unique… Celtic, yet there's something else in it… Where is home?"

Jareth looked at the elder King who looked at the woman with amused eyes. "Oh my accent is a bit of a stew… I've lived in several places, Scotland, Wales, and England… our home, a lovely estate we call Avalon is in a remote area of Wales." Carrie appeared to accept his explanation, and she asked no more questions.

Mr. King asked the men to join him in the library, giving the women the parlor. Once the men had cleared from the room, Mrs. King told Jerry to take the young people on down to the game room. Sarah went along reluctantly.

Once in the game room it was Becky who turned on Jerry first. "What the hell is this all about?"

"I have no idea," Jerry confessed exasperatedly.

"You're telling me you didn't know your Father had invited our families here?"

Jerry looked at Becky with a little irritation in his blue eyes. "That's right, red… the first I knew of it was today, just before everyone showed up."

Becky looked at Tom, "I suppose you are going to use that line as well.

The young man with dark hair and eyes turned on her, "I would have warned you had I knew of this!"

Sarah hugged her arms close to her body, unhappy at being in this room. Jerry moved toward her. "Sarah, please, you're acting like a crime was committed here."

"Wasn't it?" she accused harshly.

"You dragged me into that closet," his terse words were a whisper, but they thundered in both of their ears. "I was going to tell Marcy to take a flying leap!"

"That's not what it looked like to me… her offering to…. And you sitting there grinning like… like…a Cheshire cat…" She was hurt and angry and this room seemed to amplify it. "How could you just sit there and let her kiss you the way you did?"

Defensively he shrugged, "It was a game… just a game it didn't mean anything." Hesitantly he reached out to touch her arm, but she only pulled away violently.

"Is that all any of this is to you? Just a game?" she knew that both Becky and Tom were watching. Tom was looking at her with a strange almost furious expression. "Did you even think of the consequences before you agreed so readily to play that stupid game with a bottle of vodka?"

Jerry tried again to make light of the situation. "Oh come on, Sarah… everybody plays the game…"

"I never had vodka before you idiot!" She raised her voice. "The most I've ever had was some watered down champagne at an opening night party my mother took me to. Even then I was allowed only one little sip!" She turned her back on Jerry, and found herself staring at the door of the closet, she groaned.

"Look, nothing happened." He said placing his hands on her shoulders. Sarah turned; her face challenged him to repeat those words. "Nothing happened," he stated again. "Not really."

Disappointment filled Sarah with a dark despair. "You don't understand do you?" she asked in misery.

"Understand what?" he demanded.

"You were supposed to… protect me…" she pulled away from him moving to the window and staring out toward the little lawn ornaments.

"You weren't in any danger," Jerry scoffed.

"Yes I was," she retorted near tears. "Marcy deliberately used the game to show you how inexperienced and backwards I was… and you played right along with her. You let things get out of hand, and you enjoyed it."

Jerry blinked, "Sarah it was a party and a party game, nothing more…"

"And they say I'm slow," she sighed.

Tom moved forward. "Jerry…let her be." He warned quickly. Jerry looked over his shoulder at his friend but moved toward the girl. Tom called sharply. "You've said enough."

"What is it you're afraid of him saying?" Becky asked the dark haired boy. "Why don't you want him to explain himself?"

Tom looked at Becky's eyes, and groaned. "I don't want him to say things he can't take back just because she's making him feel guilty…"

"He should feel guilty!" Becky barked back. "You two told me that this party was okay with his folks, and that was the first lie of many…"

Tom gripped his girlfriend's forearms. "Look, the party was given the okay… but …okay maybe it got out of hand." He gave her a tiny shake. "Is that any reason she should hold his feet to the fire?"

"Yes!" Becky roared. "He's nineteen! Sarah and I are sixteen! He was supposed to be looking out for her…not compromising her reputation!"

Jerry moved to Sarah, contrite. "I was going to tell Marcy to forget it," he tried sounding convincing, but even to his ears the words were hollow.

Sarah looked up at him, eyes full of disappointment and sorrow, her voice low so only he could hear her. "You took advantage of me." It was not an accusation, it was a statement of fact, and saying it hurt the girl far more than it did for the boy to hear it.

Jerry stepped back, the words striking him where he had not planned. He had no desires to feel guilt, and yet with one simple sentence she'd rendered him immobilized, and defenseless. Within the shell of the teenager, an adult Fae was struck to his core. Her words and the truth of them wounded him deeper than her rejection in the last moments of her journey though the Labyrinth. Jerry moved forward, his arms moved slowly to embrace he in what he hoped would be perceived as a comforting embrace. "Rabbit, I'm so sorry." He breathed into her hair, clenching his eyes tightly. "I didn't think."

Tom tensed, he moved like he was going to intervene, and Becky's hand gripping his arm stopped him. He looked down at the hand, then with questioning eyes at the girl. "Becky.."

"No, let them be," She warned. "If they are going to make it as a couple…they have to do it without interference from friends and foes."

Tom's troubled eyes moved toward the couple at the window. "Maybe their not meant to make it." He suggested.

Becky looked at them, "I'd say that's up to them Tom… you have your own problems to see to." She stated with force. "You're just as guilty as he is, maybe more."

"More?" He looked at her as if he'd been assaulted.

"You lied to me Tom; you chose him and the party over me…" Becky sighed. "I'm not sure we're going to make it as a couple Tom, and that really hurts…. I like you Tom…it would be so easy to fall madly in love with you…"

Tom's mouth dropped open; he had not given the idea of her falling in love with him any credence. "Becky…"

"But I won't be falling in love with some one who chooses lies and a good time over my safety!" She denounced him soundly. Pointing at him she continued. "I'm willing to give you as second chance, but you had better never lie to me again."

Tom stepped back. "That sounds like an ultimatum to me."

"No Tom," Becky sighed darkly. "It's a statement of face. You lie to me again and it's over between us, got it?" She turned on her heel and moved toward the other couple. "Jerry, this room is depressing! Is there somewhere else we can go?"

Jerry nodded, "The garden." He took Sarah's hand and led her toward the door.

Tom was frowning, knowing the lie that was between him and Becky even now; one that he could not tell her about without unmasking both himself and the Goblin King. He wondered for a moment why it was that he was so upset about this… after all, he had no intentions of continuing to live his life out as a mortal… and Becky would be left behind, a fond memory, but just that … a memory.

--

Mr. King enjoyed his conversations with the two mortal men. Williams was intelligent and well spoken. Reynolds had a wickedly delightful sense of humor and the absurd. Both men were devoted to their families, and the King could appreciate that above all. It was easy for him to be at peace with them and enjoy their company. He reluctantly allowed them to leave when the visit reached its end.

After the guests had left, Oberon noted the subdued manners of his son. "Something amiss?"

"This was Sarah's first visit her since the party," Jareth said dropping the teen glamour. "She …reacted badly." He wandered off, refusing to expand.

Oberon looked at his wife, and drew her aside. "What did you learn from the women?"

"They are devoted to their families as you suspected," she answered coolly. "That and the Williams woman is a second wife."

"The girl is not hers?" Oberon asked lightly.

"No," the High Queen answered. "Sarah is the child of Robert's first wife, an actress."

"I see." Oberon nodded thinking private thoughts.

--

Karen noticed that Sarah seemed subdued and unhappy when they returned home. Robert, pleased with the introduction to the King family went off to his den to work before dinner. Karen asked Sarah to help her with dinner, once in the Kitchen she questioned the girl. "Sarah, honey is there a problem?"

Sarah looked at her with a lost expression. "I don't know." She answered truthfully. "I think… Jerry King may not be the….boy for me." She sighed deeply and took the dinner plates out to the dinning room.

Karen followed her. "What happened?"

Sarah set the plates down, "Karen, you remember that Halloween party at the school…" her stepmother nodded. "Well, we didn't go to it… Jerry was throwing a surprise birthday party for himself…and we went there…."

Taking a seat at the table, Karen measured how to react. "I see," she motioned the girl to be seated as well. "I take it the party got out of hand." Sarah nodded. "Drinking?" again the girl nodded. "And other things as well, I'll bet."

Sarah huffed out a sigh, placed her arms on the table and buried her head. "I want to die."

Karen placed a hand on the girls head, "Sarah, it's not the end of the world." She said with gentleness. "Teenagers all go though this goofy stage… and some of them do things that are a lot more dangerous to body and soul than just tossing a beer bash." She kept her hand on the girl. "I'm glad you told me about this, it explains why you're reluctant to speak of Jerry." When the girl looked up, with miserable eyes, Karen whispered. "What to know a secret?" Sarah nodded again. "You maybe only sixteen, but you're far and away more mature at the tender age of sixteen than Jerry is at nineteen… Girls mature faster…"

"I'm not so mature…" Sarah confessed. "I'd rather go run in the park and play dress up and act out stories than…."

Karen cupped the girl's chin. "And who's to say that's not mature? It sounds more mature to me, than drinking until you puke."

Sarah sat up, and gave her stepmother a smile. "It's better than a hangover." She agreed.

Karen winked at her. "Don't be in such a rush to grow up that you miss being young Sarah… You don't have to fall in love with the first young man you meet….there's lots of fish in that sea…"

"Thank you, Karen…" Sarah hesitated. "Are you going to tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?" Karen winked again, before standing and saying; "Let's get that dinner."

--

Sarah felt the mists gathering about her as she walked in the dark passage. It was not the tunnels under the Labyrinth; it was not a corridor she was familiar with. She knew without looking that she was once more in the pretty Kimono, and this time her feet were bare. "What is it?" she called out aloud. "What am I supposed to learn? Why do you keep bringing me here?"

"Why do you keep bringing me here," a male voice asked softly.

Sarah turned to the wall and found herself locked once more in the closet with Jareth. She moaned and fell back against the door. "Not again."

He was seated on the chest, once more dressed in full Goblin Regalia. "Ah yes, again." He looked at her with a shrug. "It's your dream, you tell me."

"No," she said turning on him. "I'm not discussing this place with you… not you of all people."

"Why not me?" He asked in a mocking tone of indignation. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," she moaned butting her head against the door lightly. "There's nothing wrong with you… you're fucking perfect!"

He smiled cheerfully. "Thank you."

"Go away," she moaned.

"I can't," he moaned back, teasingly. "You brought me here, and there must be a reason."

"I'm not going to discuss this room with you!" she stomped her foot.

"Fine," he crossed his arms. "Lovely weather we're having, do you think it will snow soon?"

Sarah looked at him, wondering if he'd lost his mind. "Are you really talking about the weather with me?"

"No," he said harshly. "I'm not."

Sarah leaned on the door, facing the Fae King and moaned. "Jareth, I can't discuss this with you. Can't you see that?"

He looked at her, pursed his lips, and demanded. "What happened in here?" She shook her head; his hand shot out and captured her wrist, pulling her forward. "What happened in here?"

"No," she whimpered. "I'm not telling you."

"Why not?" He demanded.

"Because…" she declared frantically; "I don't want you to think less of me!"

He stopped gripping her tightly; his hand loosened but remained on her wrist. His facial expression shifted, from anger to confusion. "Why should it matter, what I think of you?"

"It does," she confessed urgently anxious. She stepped closer to him. "It always did… Didn't you know that?"

Jareth looked at her in confused wonder. "What I think of you matters?"

"Of course it does," Sarah stated. "You… you're my dream man… my idea of perfection… I don't want to be seen as inferior to you…" Her eyes scanned the room wearily. "What happened in her can only do that… lessen me to you." Her green eyes move back toward his face. "That's why I can't tell you what happened in here."

Jareth leaned back, took a long ragged breath before speaking. "Sarah Williams… why is it I always underestimate you?" his voice sounded as weary as she felt.

Sarah looked at him, "How can you not know, not understand?" She asked. "I thought Fae's were…. Omnipresent…"

Jareth felt exposed, and quickly covered his tracks. "But Sarah, this is only a dream… I'm not really here… am I?"

The girl studied his face. "If it's only a dream," she whispered not trusting that it was only a dream. "I don't know anymore." She slumped, crumpling to the ground.

Jareth knew he should have let it be, that he should have allowed her this moment of confusion. Something about her state of bewilderment appealed to him, and he slipped off the chest, joining her on the floor. He pulled her upright, yanked her arms about his shoulders and placed his hands to her tiny waist. "I'm perfection, am I?" He began to stroke her cheek with his, "then why reject me?"

She trembled as she tried to breathe and think. "You really think I wanted to reject you?"

"Why Sarah," he breathed in her ear, enjoying the torture of giving her little shocks and thrills. "Why…."

"Because accepting would have cost Toby… and he was too high a price to pay for my happiness." She wound her arms over his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him. "I could not and would not surrender him to have my… dreams. Not when it was my fault that he was there… I could not accept a reward for having done something so… wrong."

Jareth froze; he had not expected so blatant a truth. She was pressing against him; he could feel her heart beating with his. He could hear her breathe and her soft sobs. Unhurried, his hands soothed her. He held her in his arms and cursed himself again for this imprudent hotheaded impulsive and irresponsible desire to take revenge on the girl. His hands move until one was bracing her back and the other was tilting her chin. "Sarah, I'm no reward." His lips moved over hers.

--

Sarah awoke with a start, and found herself curled up on the floor beside her bed. She sat up, resting her back on the bed. Her eyes moved around the room, once she was assured she was alone she crawled back into the bed.

--

Jareth sat up, vowing never to allow anyone to know how close he'd just come to confessing all. "I'm never going to make it through this year," he groaned. "Oberon is going to have to change his mind… or I'll have to change it for him." He looked at the clock next to the bed. "I'm going to have to speed things up," He said aloud. "She has to be humiliated, just as I was…" he ignored the pings of guilt. He ignored what he had learned from her dream and focused on his original plan. "The hayride," he mused. "That's the place for the final stand… that's where you will lose it all, Sarah." He vowed.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

**Chapter 20.**

Marcy hid in the last stall of the girls restroom on the third floor of the school. She knew that Sarah would be rushing off to catch her ride with Becky and all she had to do was bide her time. She glanced at her watch and at ten after three she left the restroom and moved to the window that overlooked student parking. Becky's little VW was not in its space. She an evil smile graced her face as she moved down the stairs and headed toward the janitors office. She tapped respectfully on the doorframe and called out. "Mr. Jansen? My locker is stuck again. could I borrow the key to open it?"

The elderly man in charge of the janitorial staff moved from the back of the room toward the door. "That's the fifth time since school started you've had trouble with that lock. I'm going to put graphite powder in all the locks this weekend while the school is closed," he grumbled not wanting or needed yet another extra job over the holiday weekend. He handed her the key and reminded her to return it when she was done.

Confident that the older man had been fooled, she moved to meet Laura who was already at Sarah's locker.

"Did you get it?" Laura asked softly.

Triumphantly, Marcy held up the single key on a long cord. "Like taking candy from a baby!" She announced coolly. She moved to the locker, "Laura, are you sure this is Sarah's? I don't want to break into anyone else's." It was bullshit, but it sounded good.

The other girl nodded, "I stood over there and watched her put things in and take her jacket out."

Putting the key into the lock, Marcy turned it and the tumbler opened. "Let's see what little Miss Goody Two-Shoes has in here." she muttered as she opened the door. "Good God, the girl's a neat freak," she stood back and shook her head. "No pictures, no posters…" she looked at the little mirror that Sarah had attached to the door. "This thing is on a magnet." There was a strange little hissing noise and Marcy looked up and down but could not find the source! "Do you hear something? Something like a hiss?"

Laura peered into the locker over Marcy's shoulder. "No, but I heard some in her PE class say that Williams has a neat fetish."

"This is sick," Marcy sneered. "All her books are at fucking right angles!" She touched the neat pile and shuddered. Again, there was the little hiss, and Marcy shook her head in disgust. "There it is again, a tiny little hissing sound."

"Anything we can use against her?" Laura asked hopefully.

Marcy saw something tucked neatly on the back of the shelf. "What's this?" She reached in over the books and easily withdrew the item. It was a little red leather bound book with gold lettering. It looked old but well cared for. "Maybe it's her diary, or personal journal." Marcy said hopefully. She turned the first page and frowned. "It's a fuckin' nursery book; a fairy tale. It's not even a new book, it's old and yellowed."

Laura snickered cruelly, "Sarah Williams reads fairy tales?" She looked over Marcy's shoulder again. "That's so perfect." Now the other girl was laughing out loud knowing no one was there to scold them for sticking their noses where they didn't belong. "I'll bet she's waiting for a knight on a charger…"

"Oh, this is so stupid! It's about goblins and their King…" Marcy leafed through the pages, reading swiftly as she did. "I'll bet stupid old Sarah even believes this shit."

"She would," Laura sneered. She looked back at the locker. "Anything else we can use?"

"No," Marcy tucked the book into her large shoulder bag.

"You're taking that?" Laura asked apprehensively.

Marcy tucked her arm into Laura's and dragged her away for the locker after she closed it. "I've got to return this key, and don't worry, I'll make sure the book is back long before Sarah misses it. I really should have the pass key copied."

Inside the darkness, behind the locker, a voice whispered. "She took the book…."

"The book?" Another voice questioned.

"The book that belongs to the girl who ate the peach…." A third voice hissed.

"The book holds the words…."

--

Sarah stared into her closet, not really sure what to wear for a date she really didn't want to go on. This hayride was the last big event before the dance that was held just before Christmas and was dubbed the Winter Snow Ball. She was still angry with Jerry; still harboring feelings of resentment. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure she should break it off with the cocky English boy. He was moving way too fast for her comfort level.

She was still staring into the closet when Karen came to tell her there was phone call for her. Becky was on the line wanting to know what she was going to wear. "I don't know," Sarah confessed. "What does one wear to a hayride that you intend to break up with your boyfriend at?"

Becky was silent for a moment before saying in a long sigh, "You too, huh?"

Sarah sighed, "What do you think we should wear?"

"I like that outfit you wore to the concert…. The jeans are comfortable and sends a good, solid message that there's going to be no games tonight." Becky said soundly. "If we wear skirts, the boys will think everything is fine, but if we both wear jeans…"

Sarah considered, and nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"Okay, than," Becky agreed, "Oh, and bring that wool wrap you wore the other day. They are calling for the temperature to dip."

"Yeah, don't want to give him the opportunity to put his arm around me," Sarah said firmly.

Returning to her room, the teen sat down at her vanity and stared into the glass. "Hoggle, where are you?" She whispered. "I could so use my friends right now." She lay her head down on her folded arms. "I don't want to do this," she moaned. When she stopped feeling sorry for herself, she returned to the open closet and pulled out the poet shirt, jeans, and the vest she'd worn on the date to the concert.

Jerry was in the foyer talking to her father when she came downstairs. He looked up at her, saw the outfit, and made a mental note, but kept his conversation with her father going. When she picked up her wrap her father warned the young man not to make it too late of a night.

Jerry opened the door of the TR6 and settled her into the passenger's seat. Once he was seated himself, he looked at her, and frowned. "How much hot water am I in?" He asked.

"Let's put it this way, it's way beyond a bath." Sarah said coolly.

"Rabbit," he growled gruffly, "You don't make it easy on a guy."

"The guy did this to himself," she retorted, keeping her eyes on the road and not him. She needed to keep her resolve.

Jerry sensed there was more here and determined to undermine her at all costs. "You look very nice," he said, off handedly. "I really like that… poet thing you seem to be so fond of wearing." He smiled over at her charmingly. "It suits you."

"Thank you," she looked down at the shirt and made sure the buttons were fastened and he wasn't getting a free peep at something she didn't want him seeing. She changed the subject casually. "Are Tom and Becky meeting us at the school? Are we on the same wagon as they are?"

"Yes to both questions," Jerry answered spryly. "Tom and I made sure we were all together."

She could see the cars pulling into the school lot, "I guess it's a good crowd," she said pointing to the filling lot.

"I guess." He nodded as he pulled into the lot and headed for his parking place. He alighted from the car and moved to open her door for her. He frowned when he found she'd already begun to get out on her own. "Rabbit," he said icily, warning her. Sarah looked at him, but didn't say a word. She also didn't fight him when he took her hand into his and led her toward the hay wagons that were already being boarded.

Most of the guys who hung with Jerry were there with dates; noticeably missing was David. Paul and Laura were on a different wagon, as was Meg and Todd. Steve and his gal Jenny were on the wagon with Jerry and Sarah. Jenny was ogling the pendant brooch that Sarah worn on the vest. When Tom and Becky arrived, they too joined the crowd gathered on the wagon.

The ride itself seemed to go along quietly. The teens enjoyed the story being told by the driver of the wagon. Each wagon had a different tale being told, and all of the wagons were filled to capacity. When they reached the midpoint, the wagons emptied, a bon fire was lit and the teens had some hot mulled cider.

Jerry took Sarah's hand and pulled her away from the crowd for a moment alone. He found a place under the stars that seemed promising. "Sarah," he crooned to her in a congenial tone, "Don't stay mad at me."

"Jerry," she sighed.

His fingertips touched her face gently. "Rabbit," he whispered teasingly, "Come on."

Sarah looked up at him; the resolve seemed to be crumbling away. "Jerry, you're looking for things… I'm just not ready for." She said quietly.

Sneaking up behind them after they had left the crowd at the table with the cider, Marcy had been listening in to see if she could cause trouble. "Oh, I'd listen to her if I were you," Marcy said from behind them, her voice loud enough to draw attention from a few in the crowd. Some teens moved toward them sensing there was going to be trouble. "She's really not what you want, lover boy

Jerry turned, glowering at the girl who had interrupted him. "What do you want, Marcy?" He wondered why he had wanted to use this pest as part of his plan. She had no sense of timing.

"What should have been mine," she answered glibly. "You're wasting your time on that," she pointed to Sarah accusingly. "She's into baby stories and fairytales, not real honest to God flesh and blood."

Tom and Becky were now moving quickly toward their friends. Becky moved to stand with Sarah.

Jerry cocked a brow upward as Marcy ranted on. "She'd rather play silly games of dress up in the park, lover boy. I'll bet you didn't even get her to do anything in that closet. She's all talk, no actions. You'd have had a better time if you'd stayed seated and let me show you how a real girlfriend can behave when given the right incentives."

"I don't know where you're getting your information," Jerry began to defend Sarah.

"From this," Marcy raised the little red book up for all to see. "Interesting reading, Sarah." She sneered in a disgusted tone. "If you're ten."

"My book," Sarah gasped. "Where… Marcy that was in my locker!" She felt a sudden frantic need. Her hand reached out but the other pulled the book just out of her reach.

"Did you know this one believes in goblins?" She asked loud enough for the entire crowd to hear her. "She probably thinks they'll come and save her!" She laughed and some of the teens listening laughed nervously as well. "I'll bet you even believe this crap about the King of the goblins falling madly in love with the girl in this story!" Marcy was near cackling now, "I'll bet you even pictured yourself as that girl!"

Somewhere deep inside the glamour of an English boy, a goblin's sense of honor and nobility rose. "Give Sarah back her book," he said in a tone that was eons older and more mature. He glared at the girl who he had planned on using as a foil, and cursed himself for being stupid.

"Give it back?" Marcy mocked, "Not on your life lover boy. I want everyone here to know just how juvenile and immature your infantile girlfriend is!" She opened up the book and began to read aloud. "Once there was a beautiful young girl…"

"Stop," Sarah gasped, not looking at the gathering crowd, eyes locked on the book. "Don't read that!"

Marcy laughed. "What's wrong, baby? Don't you like your story anymore?" She waved the book at Sarah. "Maybe I should just toss this crap into the bonfire!"

Jerry moved swiftly and ripped the book from Marcy's hand. "That's enough." He passed the book to Sarah who closed her eyes tightly and clutched the book to her heart. "Grow up Marcy," he snapped.

"I should grow up?" Marcy roared. "Look at her; she's the one reading this crap. And you want her?"

"At least she can read, you moron, I'd rather be with Sarah than you any day!" He roared back.

"I hate you!" Marcy screamed at the pair, the looked to Tom and Becky. "I hate all of you!" She glared at Sarah. "I wish those things in that book were true…"

Sarah's eyes popped open, wide and full of fear. "No, Marcy…don't say the words… don't…say the words…," she gasped.

It was too late. Marcy had already begun to chant. "I wish the goblins would come and take you all away, right now!"

In the clear sky of the night there was the sound of thunder and a flash of lightening. A strange roaring sound filled the air, and everything shook. Becky grabbed Sarah's arm as the girl with green eyes screamed a warning to Marcy that was unheeded.

A moment later Marcy turned about to find everything and everyone frozen in time. "What the hell is happening?" She turned to Laura who was beside her and found her best friend frozen as well. "Laura?" She sounded fearful for the first time. "What's happening?"

--

In the instant that the words were uttered, Jareth saw the goblins that'd been hidden scurry out and take hold of both Sarah and Becky. They scurried past the two Fae in teen glamours, ignoring them. Before Jareth could stop them, they had Sarah and Becky and were moving into the vortex that would carry them to the Underground. There had been no time for either Sarah or Becky to put up a struggle. It had happened in the bat of an eye, and it was over before either knew what had happened.

Thinking fast, and knowing the chaos and confusion would cover his sudden appearance as the Goblin King, Jareth dropped his glamour as did Thomas. The two Fae stood where the four teens had been, staring with scorn and contempt at Marcy, the only mortal whom Jareth had left unfrozen in time.

"What the hell is happening?" she gasped, looking at the two men. "Who the hell are you?"

Jareth, now in full Goblin Regalia, stood with his hands to his hips and glared at the girl with a haughty expression on his handsome face. "You know very well who I am, Marcy," he said in an icy tone, "You called for me."

Thomas, now in his normal formal dress attire, looked like the King's Chancellor. He stood looking down his nose at Marcy, detecting a slight quiver of fear. Knowing this was Jareth's show, he simply stood there giving the King his support.

"I didn't call you," the girl denied swiftly, "I didn't call anybody…" She franticly looked about at all the frozen teens, the mules pulling the hay wagons and the sponsors who were chaperoning the event. She didn't really understand what had happened but she was sure she didn't want to be the one who was blamed.

"What's said is said," Jareth crossed his arms as if he had lost patience with the girl.

"Sire," Thomas placed a hand at the King's elbow.

"Yes, yes," Jareth said nodding as if he'd been reminded of something important. "You, young lady, have wished away not one child, but four. I'm not sure that's ever been done before. I shall have to check. No matter… What's said is said, and what's done, is done," Jareth's stormy eyes twinkled wickedly. "However, since you've offered me this interesting predicament of a gift... I can offer you something in return, say a boon of sorts."

Marcy looked at him with uncertainty and skepticism, "What's a boon?"

Rolling his eyes Jareth murmured. "It's a gift."

"Keep your gifts, I don't want anything you have," Marcy said and backed into the still frozen Laura; "Except my friends unfrozen."

"In good time," Jareth replied coldly. "Since you reject my offer of an exchange, I must now offer you the chance to recoup and reclaim what you've wished away. If you accept my offer, and run the Labyrinth and make it to the Castle beyond the Goblin City you may redeem your companions…"

"Fuck that," Marcy said coldly.

"I beg your pardon," Jareth, feigning insult.

"You heard me you…" Marcy looked at the handsome Fae with utter disgust. "Escapee from a melodrama. As far as I'm concerned, you can keep them and good riddance to bad rubbish."

Thomas would have snickered had the situation allowed. Instead, he had to maintain his 'I'm a Fae and you're a lowly mortal' face.

"I see," Jareth sighed and snapped his fingers, freezing Marcy as well as all the others. He turned to Thomas with utter exasperation written on his face. "What the hell do I do now? She wasn't supposed to wish anyone away."

"You've a more pressing problem," Thomas advised, looking mildly amused. "She wished four teens away. The goblins delivered two young women to your throne room…"

The Goblin King groaned, "Shit!"

Thomas snickered coolly, "Sire, such colorful language! You really should remember you're not a mortal teen."

One gloved hand came up in a hand gesture that said it all. "Smart ass," he muttered as he looked over at the frozen in time mortals.

"How long can you keep them like that?" Thomas inquired, getting the King back on track.

"Indefinitely," Jareth muttered darkly. "I could wring her neck," he stated as he marched around Marcy. "All she was supposed to do was herd Sarah into my trap…"

"Be that as it may," Thomas pulled him back from the teen. "What are you going to do about the girls in the castle?" Jareth began to pace, thinking as Thomas added another thought. "How long do you think it will take your father to discover what's happened?"

"Shit," Jareth sighed again.

"This time I agree," Thomas groaned.

Jareth reached out one gloved hand, gripped the arm of his companion and yanked him closer. "We've got to get out of here, and now." He waved a hand and the vortex opened a portal to them into the FairyLands of the Underground. "We've got damage control to do!"

"You have a plan?" Thomas asked with hopeful eyes.

"I'm working on it…" Jareth said as they moved to the portal. "I'm working on it."

"Shit," was the last thing Thomas said.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21.**

One moment Sarah had been standing with Becky at her side and Jerry blocking Marcy from getting at her, the next moment, she and Becky were gone. She was still clutching the red book tightly when she became aware they were no longer standing in an open field. The lighting was wrong, what was under her feet felt wrong and the air… the air was most definitely wrong. Her vision had been blurred by the means of transport, and the scream had died on her lips. She was panting, trying to catch her breath when her vision returned. She could feel the pressure of Becky's hand clamped on her arm, and she heard Becky's lungs sucking air as hard as she was trying to herself. The only sound that escaped her was on simple word. "No."

Sarah turned to look at her friend; the other girl was franticly looking around. "Are you alright?" she asked in a low quiet voice. Becky didn't trust her voice and only nodded slowly. Sarah knew they were not alone, but she didn't want to frighten Becky more than she must be already. She took a long look; now that her eyes were clearing she could see clearly where they were. They were standing in some kind of round pit in the center of a circular room. The room was familiar to Sarah, she'd only seen it once, but she knew where and what it was.

Voice returned to Becky and she yelped. "Where in the hell are we, what the hell happened and where the hell are the boys?"

Sarah turned and looked at Becky calmly. "Where the hell are we?" She shrugged. "We're in the Castle beyond the goblin city."

Becky gave her a skeptical look, but then seeing something dart in a corner she changed her mind about challenging Sarah's explanation. She dug her fingers into Sarah's arm, just a little deeper.

The room's atmosphere seemed to shift a bit and Sarah looked toward the massive throne. "He's coming," she whispered.

"Who?" Becky asked just as quietly.

"The Goblin King," Saran answered turning to face the throne head on.

There was no sound, no fanfare, only the feeling of electricity that accompanies lightening. The air was filled with the freshness of ions, in the next second he appeared. No grand entrance as an owl, no storm outside announcing his arrival. He just simply was there one moment. Sarah looked up from the pit to where he stood, and she felt the air pulled violently from her lungs. He was just as she'd remembered him from their first encounter, handsome, virile, dangerous, and regal. He stood peering down at the girls in the pit, looking at them with feral eyes; the slightest of grins gracing his full sensuous lips.

"Jareth," Sarah breathed his name, not even aware she'd said it aloud. She also was not aware of Becky whipping her head around to look at her with shocked eyes.

"Sarah," he hissed her name in as hushed a tone as her saying his name.

For a moment they stood looking at each other, he above, her in the pit, and they forgot that anyone else was there. They regarded one another, like advisories just sizing up the encountered other. The corners of his pursed mouth began to curl upward, he appeared amused.

Becky whispered in Sarah's ear, "You know him?"

Sarah nodded, not trusting her voice just yet. The expression on her face was grim.

Becky looked at the man in the dark garments and flowing cape, so dramatic, so handsome and so unearthly. "Why, if you know this stud are you wasting time on Jerry?" She asked in shock.

Sarah blinked, Jerry… Jerry… She shook off the effects of seeing the handsome Fae King. "Where are the boys who were with us, Tom and Jerry?"

Jareth gave her a seething glance before folding his arms over his chest. "I'll do the asking of questions here if you don't mind." He shifted his gaze from Sarah to Becky. "Won't you do the honors of introducing me?"

Sarah let the protest die on her lips, remembering things here were not always as they seemed. She took a long ragged breath before saying; "Your majesty, this is Becky Reynolds, Becky this is Jareth, the Goblin King."

"Miss Reynolds," the King gave the girl a curt bow.

Becky, unsure if she should curtsy or what, bobbed her head and whispered softly; "Sir."

Clearing his throat, the man who stood behind the King moved forward. He was dressed in formal attire and looked as unearthly as the King. "Ah, yes," Jareth said distractedly. "Ladies, may I present to you Lord Thomas Bauchan." Lord Thomas bowed toward the girls and gave the King a get on with it look.

Jareth extended a hand toward Sarah, "Come out of that pit," he commanded. He took hold of her hand and pulled her out of the pit to stand on the stone tiled floor of the throne room. Thomas offered a hand to the other girl and she too was allowed out of the pit. Jareth looked at Sarah with critical eyes. "Do you own no other garments?" his voice was disparagingly analytical. "I do believe you were wearing that very same outfit the last time we met."

Sarah became very self-conscious; her hand went to the throat of her poet shirt the buttons having somehow opened. "Of course I own other clothes," she protested hastily. "But we were on a hayride and this was the best outfit for such an outing."

"A hayride, how quaint," he drawled lazily. He was baiting her and she was taking the bait. "And yet, even that you can not do without some incident occurring."

"I didn't do this," she protested hotly.

"Didn't you?" He gave her a long seething gaze.

"Where are Tom and Jerry?" she repeated.

"They are safe," the King addressed her coolly.

"Why aren't they here with us?" Sarah demanded boldly.

"Unchaparoned?" Jareth's tone was shocked and dismayed. "I should think not, young woman." He took a dangerous stance, hands at his hips as he glared at her. "There are rules of etiquette and protocol to be adhered to…"

"You're going to lecture me on etiquette?" Sarah scoffed.

Jareth's face suddenly softened. "Ah there it is," he said with a strange sound of joy filling his being. "There Thomas is the fire of which I spoke." His eyes were full of admiration now, and they were focused on Sarah alone. "There's my Sarah."

"I am not your Sarah," She protested, but felt the blush that was now burning her cheeks.

Nervously Becky looked over at the man at her side that was enjoying the contest of wills a wee bit more than he should have. "Sarah," she hissed warningly.

Hearing the apprehension and anxiety in her friend's voice, Sarah took a cleansing breath and another tack. "Your Majesty…" she looked at the King in what she hoped was a serious manner. "Would you mind telling us what is gong on?"

Jareth looked as if he were considering just what to tell them, when he reached out his gloved left hand and motioning with his right hand gently, drew Sarah aside for a private conference. They had moved a few steps away when he bent toward the girl to speak. "We've a problem." He confessed gently.

Sarah shivered; she remembered the first time he had bent this close to speak to her. That time they had been standing on a windswept hillside that overlooked the Labyrinth; "A problem?" Working to keep from shuddering she looked at him nervously. "What kind of problem."

Jareth looked over toward Becky who was eyeing the man she'd been left with suspiciously. "Sarah, we've never had a single teen wished here, let alone four. We're not exactly set up for teenaged… hostages."

Sarah blinked, "I don't understand."

Jareth moved closer, his voice low, dangerous, and so sexual it was causing her spine to dance. "You're too old to turn…." He said keeping a straight face.

"Too old to turn?" Sarah whispered back with a quizzical expression on her pretty face.

Jareth nodded, and pointed to a goblin darting at the entrance of the circular room. "Too old to turn." He repeated.

"And that's a problem?" She looked at him challengingly.

He leaned closer, whispering in her ear. "However, you are no longer too young to keep."

Sarah shivered as his breath caressed her ear. "Keep?" she whispered.

"_**Keep**_," he repeated slowly, darkly, lingering on the word and breathing at her ear. Knowing that her understanding would come, he grabbed her wrists to prevent her from slapping him. "Behave," he warned.

Sarah looked at him in outraged and livid indignation. "I beg your pardon?"

He nodded.

Sighing deeply, she huffed. "Well just get Marcy started on …." She looked at his face, and groaned. "She's not willing to run the Labyrinth?"

"Her exact words were coarse, and vulgar but most clear. She has no intentions of running for your freedom…" Jareth stood straight, his hands still holding Sarah's wrists, but now they held them lightly.

Sarah looked over at Becky, "Great," she huffed. "That bitch wishes us away, and you don't know what to do with us…" Green eyes filled with fire. "What did you offer Marcy? Her dreams, her fondest hopes? What did you offer her?"

"It matters not what was offered, she refused that as well." Jareth stated in a soft voice. "I know what to do with _**you**_," he countered coyly. "It's the rest of them I'm not sure what to do with… I mean they are too old to turn… and I've never adopted out a person on the fringes of adulthood as the boys are… as for your companion Becky… Lord Bauchan seems to be showing interest in her…"

Sarah pulled her hands out of his reach. "Get your mind out of the gutter!" She ordered coldly. "And you keep that… Lord what's his name … I thought you just said there were… rules of etiquette and protocol to be adhered to…"

Jareth looked at her with amused passion. "Those rules apply to mortals… Thomas and I are not… of your ilk… We are Fae, remember?"

Sarah glared at the King, "You tell him to keep his distance! Or I'll break every bone in his Fae body."

"I believe you would," Jareth growled darkly.

"Okay," she held her hands up; in one was the red book. "Marcy refuses to run for us, and you're stuck with four teens…. Let me run for our freedom… I'm the only one whose run this rat trap, I'm the one who can make it."

Placing a hand to his face, a finger along side his nose, Jareth acted as if he were considering the offer. "I don't know, Sarah…you're older, and most likely slower… and we've never had a hostage run the maze, it's not even in the rules…"

"You're the King, for the love of Mike! You can make the rules, change the rules and abolish the rules…." She yelled.

Jareth shrugged, "I can do some of that, it's true." He admitted. "However my dear, even I am subject to obeying certain rules and regulations. I can not abolish the rules entirely, nor can I change the Labyrinth, for the living creature is an entity unto itself." He was amazed at how calm and reasonable he sounded, while deep within his soul of souls he was giddy at how well she was taking the bait.

"Let me run," she asked again, this time exasperated.

"If you like," he said coolly. "However, let's be clear on this," he took hold of her elbow once more. "You will not be having the help of your former friends," his tone was icy.

"I don't need their help," Sarah said with her chin held high and defiant.

"As this concerns your friend Becky, let us discuss it with her." Jareth suggested calmly motioning toward the girl with long red curls.

Sarah moved to where Becky was standing giving the Fae a withering gaze. "Becky, here's the long and short of it. Marcy wished all four of us away, and we are too old to turn into goblins…Marcy has refused the offer of running the Labyrinth for our freedom," she took a long breath. "So I'm going to run instead." She held up her hand before Becky could protest. "I'm the one who's best suited to do it, I've done it before and I know it can be done." She handed her book to the other girl. "Take care of this book for me, it was a gift from my mother and I really don't want to lose it."

Becky frowned, "Why can't I run with you, two head are better than one."

"The rules state only one person can run for the freedom of any one person or assemblage of persons wished away," Jareth explained gently. "It is a rule I cannot change."

Something made the hair on Becky's neck raise. "Sarah, I don't like this… it's a trap."

Sarah looked at Jareth who pretended innocence. "I know," she sighed. "But it's the only hope we have." Sarah looked at the lurking Fae Lord. "You," she addressed him boldly. "You keep your distance and your Fae hands to your self."

Thomas gave Sarah a disgusted withering gaze.

Sarah hugged Becky, "I'll be back," she promised. "I've done this before." Once she'd hugged her friend she turned to Jareth. "I'm ready… let's get started."

Jareth hesitated, "You are doing this of your own free will?" He inquired making sure that both Thomas and Becky were witness to Sarah's answer.

"I am," Sarah said resolutely.

"What's said is said," Jareth held his hand out to the girl. "And a bargain is a bargain." As the girl's hand moved into his gloved fingers he clamped his hand down tightly without crushing her fingers. "I will hold you to the rules, and I will expect you to surrender to me without remonstration when you lose."

"If I lose," Sarah corrected boldly, holding her chin high.

Jareth laughed, and they vanished from the room.

Becky looked at the leering face of the Fae Lord, and shook off the feeling that she'd met him before. She sighed, moved to the steps of the throne, took a seat and opened Sarah's book.

"What are you doing?" Thomas asked intrigued.

"Finding out just what Sarah is facing," she answered as she began to read ignoring the rather handsome man staring at her.

--

They appeared not on the windswept hillside of Sarah's memory, but rather at the base of the wall in a place totally unfamiliar to the girl. "This isn't right," she challenged. "This is not where I started from."

Jareth took a seat on a stump of what had been a tree outside the wall. "I don't recall saying you'd run the same course."

"Course? You mean there's more than one?" She squeaked as she spoke.

"It's a Labyrinth, Sarah, not a maze. There are several ways in, and several ways out." Jareth rested one elbow on his thigh and placed his chin in his hand. "Surely you didn't think I was going to make it easy for you."

"No," she agreed quietly as she looked at the wall. "I didn't think that."

"I'm glad to see we understand each other this time," he said casually.

"I understood you the last time," she snapped looking at him with seething eyes.

"NO," he shook his head in his hand. "You didn't."

Sarah walked over to where he sat, "What do I have to do, and how much time do I have?"

Jareth paused, hedging, wanting to make her jumpy and perhaps even panicky. "Your not the same as you were," he said eyeing her. "Even that ridiculous get-up looks different on you."

"It does not," the girl gasped in shock. "It looks just the same!" She became defensive.

"No," he retorted looking at her with a slightly suggestive leer. "It most certainly does not. I don't recall it being so… provocative when last we met. I don't recall your figure being so…curvy."

Sarah felt the color flood her cheeks with a heat she could not bring to a halt. She knew her lips had parted, but she could find no words of protest of challenge. She also was aware it was hard to breath with him looking at her that way. She turned away, unable to withstand his gaze.

"You've changed," he said letting a growl form in the back of his throat, as his eyes raked over her with suggestive promises.

Sarah remembered him saying that in her dreams, she wondered now if he were aware of the dreams. "No," she shook her head and whispered. "No, I haven't."

Jareth rose from the tree stump and moved to stand behind her. "Yes, my dear you have… you were…innocent when I last met you. Can you make such a claim now?"

Sarah turned her head slightly, finding him looking over her shoulder with concern and benevolence. His gaze and closeness drew a shudder from her. She swallowed, hard, and spoke carefully. "What are the rules and how long do I have?"

Jareth smiled at her, greedily. "You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth…" he repeated the time as he had on her first visit to his kingdom. His breath bathed her face, and one hand moved to encircle her waist. "You will have no help this time; your goblin friends have been… taken care of…"

"If you've hurt them…" she protested.

"I said taken care of," he warned as his hand moved to pull her closer. "If you make it to the throne room of the castle, you and your friends will be set free. If not," he crooned moving closer. "You will surrender yourself to me, and become my willing slave."

"Slave?" she gulped.

"You're too old to turn, but no longer too young to keep, and as I said… you are no longer innocent." His voice was dark, dangerous and droning. Sarah looked at him with eyes that filled with conflict. "You will give yourself to me, Sarah Williams, freely."

"And the others?" she whispered.

"I shall send your male friends to some mine, perhaps … your female companion I shall offer to Lord Bauchan, he's shown interest in her and I'm sure she'll amuse him for a time."

"You can't do that," Sarah objected voicing disapproval. "That's not… appropriate or respectable."

"Sarah, I am King, and what I deem appropriate…" he argued softly.

"No," she shook her head, "Not even you can be so…obtuse!" she shoved him away. "I offer you a different bargain, Goblin King." She stood her ground, head held high, and pride in her eyes. "If I lose you let my friends go… and I will remain… willingly."

"Willingly?" he countered, as she nodded, he chuckled. "To be what ever I demand?" He watched her eyes flicker with conflict but her head nodded in agreement. "Even if I demand you become my…paramour?"

Sarah closed her eyes pursed her lips and nodded again.

"I can live with this bargain," he announced cunningly. "Alright, Sarah…if you win, everyone goes free… if you lose…. You give yourself to me and never again protest, question or defy me."

Sarah looked at him, sighed and nodded.

"I have to hear the words," he told her tipping her face up with one gloved finger.

"I will give myself to you… and never again protest, question or defy you… Satisfied?" she looked into his eyes.

"Care to seal the bargain with a kiss?" He teased.

She pulled back, "You've not won yet, Goblin King."

He chuckled again, "Once I do," he teased. "And I will win this time, Sarah… once I do, you will give me all your kisses." He turned toward the wall. "Are you ready?"

Sarah squared her shoulders and nodded. "I'm ready." She looked at the winding rise of the Labyrinth that she could see over the area of wall. "It's not so far…."

"It's further than you think," the voice of the Goblin King murmured at her ear. "And time, is short…." his cheek brushed against hers, softly caressingly. "You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth, before you become one of us… forever…" then he added in a sinister way. "Not long at all." His lips then brushed against her cheek as he vanished.

"I hate when he does that," she moaned as the wall opened and she entered the Labyrinth.

--

Oberon and his Queen had been strolling the garden, knowing the chill of fall turning to winter was on its way. Evenings as lovely as this one would be a thing of the past and they would have to be content with a roaring fire. Both sensed the shifting in the fabric of time. The High King paused, looked about and whispered. "Someone has wished away a child."

"No," the Queen said blinking. "Someone has wished away more than one…"

Oberon closed his eyes and breathed in the information on the winds of magic. "Good God," he looked at his wife, "Someone wished Jareth himself away!"

"Oh dear," the Queen fretted. "Who would do such a thing?"

Oberon kissed her furrowed brow, "I will return as soon as I can… with answers…" He dropped the glamour the world saw and resumed his own appearance. His robes fluttered on the winds of magic much the way his son's cloak did. "Try not to worry too much…" in the next quiver of wind he was gone.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22.**

Jareth didn't go back to the throne room directly; before checking on Becky he wanted information. Information he could not receive in front of the teenaged girl. There were questions he had to have answers to before he could risk another encounter with Becky. He instead appeared in the courtyard of the palace. He raised his gloved right hand to his lips and gave a sharp whistle. Goblins scurried from everyplace possible to answer his summons. He watched them gather eagerly. Once he had all assembled he cleared his throat, "I want to ask you all a question," he stated seriously.

"Question?" one croaked in fear. "He's asking questions?"

"That means giving answers?" another panicked. "We don't have answers…"

"Who brought the girl here?" He demanded.

There were undertone murmurs and discussion among the rabble until one goblin leaned forward and asked carefully; "Which one?"

Jareth snickered, knowing he should have been more specific. "Oh, alright, I see… who brought the girl _**Sarah**_ here?"

More discussion and again the one goblin had been chosen to be spokesperson for the group; "Which time?" His bulging eyes looked ready to pop out of his little head.

"_**This time**_," Jareth huffed. "I know who brought her last time."

The spokes-goblin move forward in a sideways manner; "That would be Inkie and Blot, Sire…they were the ones with the girl…"

"With the girl?" Jareth blinked. "Why were any of you with the girl?"

"You told us to be," Inkie said pulling his ear and hiding behind the spokes-goblin.

Jareth stared at the assembled group of goblins. "I did? When?" He challenged the little cowering goblin.

Inkie and Blot began to whisper together, figuring the timeline. "When you gave her… her powers…" Mentioning the powers given the mortal girl began the discussions and murmurings of the crowd all over again.

Jareth moaned and put a gloved hand over his eyes. It was true; he had placed a goblin on watch, two in fact, very likely it was these two. Up until the time that the girl had won back her brother he had from time to time sent replacements to relieve the standing guard that oddly enough never reappeared. However since there was a host to chose from he never worried about who was where. Listening now he began to understand, and it was not making for a pretty picture. "Let me get this straight." He shouted over the din of noise now coming from the assembled group. "You two," he pointed to Inkie and Blot; "Have been with the girl from the start?"

"Yep." they both nodded and answered in unison. "Watching girl and waiting like you told us too."

"And the rest of you?" He pointed to the group cowering around the pair.

"Watching and waiting, like you told us to…" they repeated.

Jareth gave a half hearted laugh, and looked at them with disgust. "So you've all been there … even after she returned from here the last time?"

Inkie scratched his head. "Girl still has powers…" he reasoned.

Pausing, looking down at the goblin, the King scoffed. "What of it?"

"Have to be there to answer wish…" Blot rationalized.

"Sarah didn't make the wish…" Jareth stated.

"Girl who stole the book did," Inkie interjected. "Did we do wrong?"

Jareth huffed, and let his eyes close. "No, not really," he conceded. He lowered his gloved hands, and placed them behind his back. "However, I would prefer none of you try to help Sarah this time…"

Glomar looked at the monarch with great round eyes gone glassy. "But she'll lose without help." He whimpered pitifully.

"Possibly," Jareth agreed.

"Poor girl," moaned the goblin throwing himself down dramatically.

"Poor girl, indeed…" a voice boomed from one of the terraces above them.

Jareth looked up, even before he did, he was aware who was above them. "Hello Father," he said softly, with respect. "How long did it take you to notice I was …gone?" The goblins cowered, not wanting to draw attention to themselves as they feared the Big King more than the Little King. Jareth smiled softly.

"Not long," his father admitted moving toward him down the meandering zigzag stairs. Oberon looked at his son, now dressed in full battle armor and symbols of office. "I must say I was surprised to find you'd been wished away…I wonder how many times my wife was tempted to do just that with you?" The High King teased lightly.

Jareth looked at the goblins, "Everyone but Inkie and Blot may go." He commanded. "Inkie, Blot, stand here please." He motioned to his side, and was joined by the cowering pair who instead hid behind his legs peering at the Big King in alarm. "I'm surprised she didn't try it once," Jareth confessed. "I know I sorely tried the good lady's patience."

Oberon looked at his son, trying to remain calm and reasonable. "This is rather an odd wishing, so…" He motioned the younger king to join him as he sat upon a balustrade. "Tell me who was wished away and what is going to become of them."

Jareth could not move for a moment until he untangled the two goblins from his legs. He sat lightly on the balustrade, the goblin pair now hiding behind the leg that touched the ground. "It's a complicated wish," he agreed. "No one has ever used the power of the wish to wish away a Fae."

"The Fae issue aside," Oberon looked at his son with an uneasy gaze. "Whom was really wished away?"

"That would be Becky and Sarah," Jareth said trying not to sound too gleeful.

"And the person who did the wishing?" Oberon prodded the boy into giving information.

"Marcy," Jareth muttered unable to hide his dislike of the girl from the way he spoke her name.

"What is her grudge against Becky and Sarah?"

Jareth took a long slow breath, "Me."

"You?"

Nodding Jareth shrugged; "I didn't even have to cast an enchantment or anything… Marcy Daniels is the kind of person who believes all the best things in life belong to her by… birthright." He shook his head and sighed. "And she wanted Jerry King."

Oberon hid the amusement he was feeling, keeping a serious but calm countenance. "So in a fit of pique she wished all four of you away?"

"She hates Sarah, with a passion…" Jareth reasoned. "Because Sarah is everything she is not… Sarah is intelligent, and witty and unspoiled…innocent;" Saying that he looked off toward the winding Labyrinth. "She resents Sarah's having a famous mother, and calls both of them whores, even though that is not true. She spreads vicious rumors about Sarah, and torments her to no end…"

"You used the girls hate, didn't you?" Oberon questioned carefully.

"Yes," Jareth admitted. "At first I did… but not now…well, I didn't mean for her to wish anyone away… I had no idea that goblins had stayed with Sarah after she left here the last time."

This time there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes, and Oberon laughingly scoffed. "Don't you keep track of your goblins?"

"You try keeping track of them!" the younger King retorted crossing his arms. "Marcy was just supposed to push Sarah into my trap…not send all of us to …here." Jareth groused bitterly. "Now I have Sarah, but I don't have Sarah…" He huffed. "It's a mess."

Oberon looked down at the two who were still shaking and quaking at the feet of their King. "Well it could be worse."

"Father, I know this is all fun and games to you," Jareth stated boldly while trying to remain respectful. "But I don't think you see the bigger picture here."

"And you do?" Mused the older King.

"Becky and Sarah have been told that the boys are being kept separate from them because of morality and ethics," Jareth explained. "So far they are buying it, and have not asked to see them. I told Sarah a bit of a fabrication, and gave her the bad news that Marcy would not run for their freedom."

"What fabrication?" Oberon's voice boomed.

"A small… insignificant and trivial bit of a cock-and-bull story," Jareth hinted.

"What the hell did you tell her?" Oberon now demanded to know.

Quilt written on his face, the younger King muttered low. "I said teenagers weren't wished away and I was not set up for them…." His eyes darted from his father's not wanting to admit to the rest.

"Oh Jareth," Oberon shook his head. "What else," the younger looked at him and shrugged wordlessly, trying to conceal the rest. "Tell me what you did."

"Alright," Jareth huffed bitterly. "I told her she was too old to turn into a goblin, and that she was no longer too young to keep…and I told her that I could sense she was no longer totally innocent…"

"She isn't?" Oberon asked darkly. "Since when?"

Jareth shook the pair of goblins off his leg, left the balustrade to pace the stones that made up the landing they were on. "Since the Halloween party."

Oberon frowned; "I prevented you from taking her upstairs and deflowering her…" he interjected.

"Deflowering is not the only way to… destroy innocence." Jareth admitted. "She's still unknowing… but she's no longer quite the innocent she once was."

Not sure he really wanted to know, the High King pulled softly on the beard at his chin. "Lad, this is very serious." His eyes darkened as he contemplated and mulled over this new information. "Jareth you're playing a bit faster and looser than I ever have."

Shoulders slumped and head hung in shame, the younger King stopped pacing. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," he moaned in despair. "It's not how I planned, it went all wrong." He railed. "Marcy was supposed to issue a challenge, and I was supposed to turn Sarah down… and humiliate her the way she had me… but no, she stands up and tells Marcy off, and then she yanks me to my feet and dragged me off to the closet…" He covered his eyes with his gloves. "And I didn't stop her… even when I could have… I let her…." He stopped, unable to tell his father exactly what had happened in the closet. "I let her." He whispered pained by his own shame and dark desires.

"Oh boy, boy, boy, boy…" Oberon sadly shook his head. "Have you learned nothing from me?" He moved off the rail to his son's side and placed a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Revenge is a double edged sword Jareth… it cuts both ways. And it spawns an endless circle of events."

Jareth looked at the face of his father, "I so wanted her to feel what I felt… what I feel still. Father, I offered her everything… I offered her, her dreams."

"Mortals do not understand the sanctity of such an offer, Jareth." Oberon tightened his grip on the shoulder of his son. "For them it's the working to make dreams real in their world that is… important to them. Not the dreams themselves." He moved his hand to his son's beautiful face. "Come perhaps we can salvage this yet… let us go into the castle and I'll intervene and send the teens home as there is no one to run for their freedom…"

"Sarah's running," Jareth sighed as he pointed to the Labyrinth.

"What?" Oberon dropped his hand. "What?"

Jareth turned from his father, looked at the direction he knew Sarah would be traveling, "I told her Marcy declined the run, and told her I intended to make her my…paramour… and give Becky to… Thomas… I threatened to send Tom and Jerry to a mine… and she… offered to run."

The High King was speechless; never in all his years, had he heard anything so concocted out of nonsense. "What were you thinking?"

Jareth turned to him with hopelessness in his eyes. "I wasn't thinking…" he admitted.

"Jareth, do you hate the girl that much?" Oberon demanded.

"I don't hate her," Jareth crowed. "I love her…damn it…" he moved to the rail of the balustrade and gripped it with both gloved hands. "I love her… I lover her wit, her defiance, her damned green eyes… her rebelliousness and her insubordination… I love her."

Oberon sighed deeply. "You've a very strange way of showing it, son."

"After her dreams I thought the idea of being my lover would please her," Jareth rationalized.

The High King moved to where his son now stood bent over the rail. "You just said your self that the girl is still unknowing… and you knew the kind of upbringing she'd had… you really believe being offered the position of a King's glorified whore would make her happy?"

"She wouldn't be a whore," Jareth protested.

"Yes, Jareth, she would." Oberon stated firmly.

"No, she would be my…" Jareth stopped, even he could not defend the thoughts any longer. "Oh, it's a mess."

Oberon gave the younger king a slap to the back of his head. "I raised you better than that….taking lovers is all good and fine, but Sarah Williams is not the kind of girl one turns into a paramour, you idiot…She's the kind one takes for a wife."

"She rejected me!" Jareth shouted holding the back of his head.

"I don't blame her." Oberon said coldly.

Jareth looked away, "I do."

Oberon looked at the Labyrinth. "So you sent her off into the Labyrinth… if she wins they all go home and if she looses, she and Becky become paramours… and Tom and Jerry, who don't exist get sent to a mine…"

"No," Jareth frowned. "If she loses everyone else goes free and she stays with me, willingly."

Oberon stared, "You made her this offer?"

"No," he sighed. "She made the offer."

"Unbelievable…." Oberon's eyes scoured the landscape beyond them, and looked at his son once more. "She's too good for you!"

Jareth hung his head in shame. "Yes, Father." He agreed sadly.

--

Becky sat in the throne room, reading and ignoring the man who kept asking questions she didn't want to answer. "Look," she said losing her cool demeanor. "I'm trying to read, why don't you go off and do what ever it is you Fairy Folk do when you're not picking up fallen out teeth."

Thomas had to admit that was one of the best put downs he'd heard. "I find you fascinating." He admitted. "Why not come away with me, and see how the other half lives?"

Becky looked at him, "I have a boyfriend, thank you."

"I'm not a boy," he teased.

"I'm not interested." She went back to Sarah's book.

Thomas whispered in her ear. "I'll bet I could change that pretty little mind of yours."

Becky looked at the phrase in front of her, and wondered why it was she was constantly drawn back to that one phrase. She read it over and began to mutter it under her breath. "But what no one knew…." She stood up. "OH my god!" she shouted. "The Goblin King is in love with Sarah…"


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23.**

This entry way to the Labyrinth was entirely different than the other. There were no straight narrow long paths; it was winding and curling and totally without reason or rhyme. She knew better than to try and mark her pathway. Even if she'd had something to mark the stones with she knew they would just get turned around and misplaced. She moved slowly at first, to get her bearings if possible. But it was hopeless, so she just began to go what she thought was forward. She'd have given anything to see just one worm, but it was already half an hour into the curling path and the only thing she'd seen was Lichen that cowered and closed its many eyes as she came near.

She paused, stood on tippy toe and tried to peer over the next opening. It did her little good, all she saw was more curling path and high walls. "This is so unfair," she moaned as she trudged up the path of what she hoped was forward.

--

Becky looked at the passage again. "Oh my God!" she looked at Thomas, "He's in love with her…"

"Don't be ridicules," he lounged on the stairs she'd just vacated. "Oh I'm sure he's fond of the little wench…"

Becky looked at the Fae reclining on the stair as if he were a coiled snake. "How is life in that land of denial you've built?" she asked sarcastically. "Open your eyes, Lord… what ever it is… Your buddy is head over heals, or as my dad is so fond of saying… Ass over teakettle!"

Eyes burning with anger at being spoken to in such a disrespectful tone, Thomas dismissed her claims without giving them any merit; "Nonsense."

Becky blinked, "Do I know you?" she asked suddenly.

Thomas, unsure and acting guilty suddenly stood up and pulled closer to himself. "No." he denied. He moved past her toward the window. "Where is Jareth," he muttered as he peered out the window. "Oh, no," he gripped. "The High King." One balled fist landed on the sill.

Becky's mother had told her that learning to read others body language would come in handy. Right now she was reading something she was sure she didn't like. She'd seen others use this same defense mechanism and she was sure this Fae was up to no good… and she was also sure that he didn't want the High King to know it. "Tangled web, Lord..." she searched her memory for his name; "Bauchan?" She pursed her lips… "Now, why is that name so damned familiar?"

Thomas didn't bother looking at her. "I have no idea."

Becky held Sarah's book to her chest with one hand, and the other tapped her chin. "Bauchan… Bauchan…. Bauchan," she repeated softly. "Celtic… I know this…" she tapped her foot now as well.

Thomas didn't bother looking at the girl; he didn't care what she knew. HE was more concerned with the tae-ta-tae taking place below. The unannounced appearance of the High King could only mean he was aware of the wish, and was going to intervene in some way. Thomas would have liked to have heard the conversation.

"Bauchan… Bauchan?" Becky stopped saying the name and then growled. "I know who you are!" she accused.

Thomas turned at the fury in her voice, fearful he'd been found out.

"You're one of those Hobgoblin things… you're something of a cross between a brownie and a Fae…. And if memory serves, and it does… you're not a very nice creature… You're kind is a bunch of mischief makers… taking their enjoyment in the conflicts of others…" She spoke with confidence.

Thomas leaned his elbows on the window sill as he regarded her. "Well, I see Jareth's little playmate is not the only one who had a catalogue knowledge of us."

Becky narrowed her glare. "I'll bet you're even responsible for some of this mess."

"Oh I could never take credit for this," Thomas flirted.

"Save it, goblin boy," she sneered. "Bigger and better than you have tried to sweet talk me, and it didn't work for them… it sure as hell is not going to work for you."

Thomas was suddenly quite taken with Becky on an entirely new level. "Little spit fire!" he said leaving the window. "I'll wager you've never known anyone like me."

"Don't bet the farm, goblin boy…I've known all kinds…I'm an army brat, and I've seen the world." She boasted proudly.

"You've only seen the Above… I could show you the Underground." He boasted in reply as he moved toward the girl. "I could rock your world."

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she remembered stories she'd heard as a child. "What's a matter; all the Fae ladies heard your lines and got tired of you not being able to… deliver?"

Thomas stopped short, insulted and fearful of her knowing the truth. "You insignificant little…."

"Temper, temper…" she warned. "I'm under the protection of the Goblin King… or did you forget?"

Thomas sneered, "For now, little one… but when your friend is unable to win this time… I shall request the King give you to me… and then…"

"Don't count your chickens, goblin boy!" Becky warned suddenly far more sure of Sarah. "I have faith in Sarah."

Thomas laughed, the sound was unpleasant. "And I have faith in the Labyrinth… it does not like to be taken for granted."

Becky turned her back on the Fae Lord, clutched the book tighter and whispered. "Come on Sarah, kick ass."

--

The curly path gave way to what looked like a garden gone wrong. Sarah frowned, the bushes were brown, shrived and dead. It was nothing like the pretty privet hedge maze that had been sculpted into shapes. There was no wise man with talking hat. She blew out her frustration with a long puffy huff. She frowned again. There had been no doors with silly playing card knaves guarding them. NO questions to answer or riddle to un-riddle. Nothing, but this lack luster forgotten garden.

"Hoggle!" she stamped her foot. "What's become of you?" She dug her toe into the dust that once may have been good rich loam. "I'd forgotten how hard this was." She complained aloud.

--

A crystal was held in a gloved hand, and stormy eyes watched, as the young King sighed. "She's made it into the dead maze…"

Oberon paced and tapped his chin. "At least she's moving forward."

"I couldn't just put her back in where she had been before," Jareth said defensively. "She has to feel it's a challenge." He added in a dark mutter under his breath; "Not just a piece of cake."

Oberon looked at his son quizzically. "Did you say something?"

Jareth shook his head, and watched the girl as she moved forward on a path that was not as easy as it appeared. "Why doesn't she just give up?" he complained to himself forgetting his father was listening.

"Because you dolt," Oberon exhaled in exasperation. "She's a strong, willful and intelligent young woman."

"Little girl," Jareth pleaded with the crystal in his hand. "Give up…"

The High King moved so quickly the younger King had no time to prepare. Once more the father slapped the back of his son's head. "She's not a little girl you idiot…"

Jareth held the crystal to his chest with one hand, and rubbed the back of his head with the other. "She's my little girl…. She's…" he said in contradiction.

Oberon removed the crystal swiftly. "Look again, boy!" he roared.

Jareth looked at the crystal, betrayed and nervous. "She's… becoming a woman." He finally conceded in defeat.

"What a pity you're not ready to become a man," Oberon announced in a biting tone that slit into his sons defenses. "A real man would not allow his beloved to face dangers alone…"

Withering under the accusations, Jareth vanished.

--

Thomas was once more looking out the window in the circular throne room. "Where did he go?" he muttered wanting to stop Jareth from doing something that would ruin his proposes.

--

Sarah moved past the dead hedges, and paused as she came to a wall. "There has to be an opening." She said aloud. "The path would not lead to a dead end…"

Jareth stood back a ways, knowing she was looking forward and concentrating. He bit his lower lip, feeling something he was not use to or happy about. Guilt. Spitefully he'd dropped her into one of the hardest courses of the Labyrinth to befuddle her. Yet she'd come through the curling entry and the dead hedge without delaying. He leaned on the wall, feeling a mixture of pride in her ability and dread. She could very likely make it, and he was then faced with having to return her yet again to the Above.

He watched as she ran her hand over the wall, she was going to find the entrance that was hidden. She knew some of the tricks of the Labyrinth and she was going to use what she'd learned. He could see that. "Sarah," he whispered. "I do believe in you…" his voice sounded broken and heavy with heartache. "I do.." He closed his eyes, and put his head to the wall. "Find the entrance… move forward, my… beloved." He whispered.

--

Sarah's hand came into a space that looked like it should be connected and fell into open air. "Worm was right," she nodded sure of herself. "There are openings where you don't see them." She moved into the opening slowly, hands outstretched to find the other wall. "I can do this… it's a piece of cake!" she boasted just before the ground under her opened and swallowed her up.

Jareth looked over at where she'd been standing, a faint smile coming to his lips. "Let's try a little reunion, shall we?" he said with a hopeful smiled before he too vanished.

--

Becky was reading again, this time she was seated on the stairs that led out of the throne room and away from the glaring reproaches of the Fae who was now pacing angrily. A unexpected abrupt change in the room told her that someone important was coming. She closed the book and placed it on her lap. The pacing Fae was also aware of the changes, and he looked worried. Becky could see the swirl of magic before the man appeared. He was just there, one moment nothing, the next, this man… Becky muttered under her breath, "Cool."

The High King, no longer in a glamour that was needed in the Above, looked over at the girl on the stairs. "Thank you... I think," he hesitated in taking credit for impressing her. "Are you alright?" he asked mildly.

"So far," she said keeping her place on the stairs. "Is Sarah?"

The High King glanced over at the face of the Fae who was now looking at him with interest. "So far," he said firmly. He moved to the throne and took a seat. "Thomas," he addressed the Fae. "How much of this mess do I have you to thank for?"

"I, Sire?" he feigned innocence. "What could I possibly have to do with it?"

Not impressed, the High King placed a hand to the side rail of the throne. "Whom do you believe you are addressing?" he asked coldly. "Surely you are not mistaking me for my inexperienced and naïve son, are you?"

Thomas sulked. "No, Sire."

"Good," the High King said firmly. "Now, don't make me repeat myself."

"I admit that I may have fueled fires that were already ignited," Thomas intimated softly, still not willing to be taking the fall for the mess he and Jareth had created.

Becky snickered and looked over at the High King, "I think that's about the lot of it you're going to get out of that one." She added politely, "Sir."

Oberon smiled gently at her, "I believe you're right." He motioned her to come closer. "What's that you're reading?"

"Sarah's book," she handed it without question or reservation to the elder. "It's the story of the Labyrinth…"

"Is it now?" Oberon opened to the first pages and read. "How very interesting, where did the girl come by this?" He turned to the first page and read the name of the author. "Robin, of course…" He called out on the winds of magic. "Not funny Robin!" In answer there was a tittering of laughter. Oberon handed the book back to Becky. "This is what happens when I allow them to go off on their own, and trust that they'll use common sense." He confided.

"Like allowing a bunch of teens to have a party," mused the girl wisely.

"More or less," Oberon agreed. "So young lady, since Thomas there seems to have forgotten his good manners, allow me to introduce myself…"

"You're Oberon, King of the Fae," Becky saved him the trouble. "I'm Rebecca Reynolds, sir." She offered him her hand, "Becky to my friends."

Oberon admired the girl's spunk and fire, and her firm handshake. "A pleasure Miss Reynolds," he addressed her gently.

"All mine, I assure you, Sire." She smiled warmly at the King. "I've admired you nearly all my life."

"Indeed?" Oberon mused as he leaned back. "And who told you of me?"

"My mother… she once danced in a fairy ring of mushrooms hoping you'd show up and sweep her off her pretty little feet." Becky reminisced.

"I'm sorry I disappointed the lady," Oberon sighed.

"Oh she wasn't disappointed," Becky took a seat on the stairs below the High King. "That's the day she met my dad… she's always said that he was a gift from you."

Thomas gnashed his teeth, the story grated on his nerves.

Oberon looked over at the Fae, but addressed the girl. "So what do you think of Robin's book?"

"I think Sarah didn't read between the lines… but then it's hard to do when you're trying to live the story." Becky announced.

"And what have you learned?" Oberon found he liked the girl and her frank ways.

"The Goblin King is in love with Sarah," Becky counted off on her fingers the facts as she saw them. "And this is not the first time these two have tangoed…" another finger was counted, "Old grumpy Gus over there instigated something about this… and… for some odd reason he thinks I should be jumping through hoops because he's given me the eye."

Oberon stifled the snicker that threatened to come out. "I see, anything else?"

"Yeah," Becky lost her smile. "Sarah's being set up for a big fall…."

The High King leaned forward. "How so?"

"You boy, the Goblin King," Becky was now emphasizing by wagging her index finger toward the king and making a shrewd farcical expression. "He wants revenge for being… rejected… and that one over there," she motioned to Thomas with her thumb; "He's all for humiliating and denigrating my best friend."

"Anything else?"

"Sarah's in love with Jareth and doesn't even know it," Becky sighed sorrowfully.

Oberon gave the girl a long studied gazed, never wavering. "What makes you so sure?"

Holding up Sarah's red book, Becky sighed. "Because she kept this…"

Oberon took the book into his hands again; "What did the girl tell you about this book, Becky, do you recall?"

Slowly she put her head on his knee. "She said it's precious to her because it came from her mother… but I think… no, I know it's more."

Oberon placed a hand on the girl's head, stroked her hair gently, lovingly like a father. "Thank you child…thank you."

She looked up at him, "You're welcome, sir."

Thomas interrupted the moment with a rude outburst, "Rubbish!" He moved toward them. "If Jareth and this girl were in love…why is there no…happily ever after?" He challenged boldly.

--

Sarah fell, not into a shaft of hands but down into a narrow tube like tunnel that descended like a slide. She braced herself, knowing she'd have to grab fast to prevent herself from being dropped into the bog. One experience with that stench was enough to fill her lifetime she thought. She had no intentions of allowing even a drop of that rakish water to touch her.

The winding sliding tunnel emptied out, but not into the bog. It opened into another underground tunnel full of carved faces. She landed on her bottom unceremoniously. Not one of the faces said a thing as they stared at her. She winced, feeling embarrassed and mortified and self-conscious. Something told her she was not alone. Looking at the faces she noticed the man leaning against one of them nonchalantly. As their eyes met, he gave her a quirkily little half smile. He moved forward bent down and extended his hands to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked franticly.

"Helping a lady to her feet," he said in a steady voice.

"A lady?" she stared at his gloved hands.

"Yes, Sarah, a lady," he wriggled his fingers at her. "Come on; let's get you to your feet."

She hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and placed her hands into his. He yanked her off the ground with ease, after which he released her hands and stepped back. She brushed her bottom off while looking at him, still suspicious of his motives. "Thank you…"

"You're welcome, Sarah." He answered quietly.

She looked at him, cocked her head to one side and challenged. "What, no sarcasm, no threats, no… cleaners this time?"

"No," he answered rocking on his heels, looking at her without the haughtiness he wore as easily as he wore his battle armor.

"No, snide remark," she questioned.

"Nope."

Her face turned forlorn and disappointed, her hands dropped to her side as she hung her head dejectedly. "Oh."

Jareth moved forward, pulled her into his arms and lowered his face to hers. "I'm not going to waste time, not this time around." His mouth moved over hers, gently at first, then more insistently.

Whether in shock or in surreptitious agreement, Sarah closed her eyes, wound her arms about the slender waist of the King, and returned the kiss.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24.**

By mutual consent the kiss that had lingered into delightful bliss, ended. Jareth stepped back while releasing her from his embrace. Sarah fell back into one of the faces and murmured a slight apology. The face smiled. She took a deep breath, before venturing to speak. "What was that?"

Jareth was leaning across from her, against a face that was holding its stony breath. "What did you think it was?" he asked in reply.

Sarah shook her head, not wanting to answer. "Don't do this," she pleaded. "I'm confused enough as it is."

Jareth nodded, "I'm a bit bewildered as well," he admitted. "Having you back here…" He relaxed a bit, and smiled at her warmly. "It's so good to see you again…You look so beautiful."

Sarah blushed and looked down nervously. "I…" she pushed back her hair. "Thank you." Once more he'd put her into a state of nervousness followed by awkward silence.

"I've missed you," he whispered trying to break the ice that was forming.

Sarah looked up, surprised. "You have?" He nodded. "I… thought you'd be … angry."

"I was," he said sadly. "Sue me."

She giggled. "Got a good Fae Lawyer?" she asked.

"No," he admitted laughing lightly.

The False Alarms watched, keeping their opinions to themselves.

Jareth took a long look at her, "You've changed," he said before he could stop himself.

Sarah looked up, alarmed. Hadn't he said that to her in her dream. "No… I haven't," she protested softly. Her eyes filled with worried fears.

Jareth silently cursed his own stupidity, but ventured on gently. "You're older…" he remarked as if it were a perfectly normal observation.

"A year," she admitted looking uncomfortable. She looked at the young King and sighed. "You've changed a little too."

He chuckled softly; pleased they were trying to have a normal discussion. "Have I?"

She looked at him softly. "I don't see you in the park anymore," her voice was tinged with regrets.

"Too painful," he whispered, casting his eyes downward.

Sarah too cast her eyes downward and whispered. "I'm sorry."

For a few moments neither one spoke both locked in their own misery and leaning on their own respective wall with silent witnesses. The False Alarms watched in uneasiness as the silence lingered longer than they felt it should.

Jareth looked up from the floor of the tunnel; he wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her in fact. "Sarah," he tried to ease into a conversation.

Sarah, startled by his using her name so softly, so invitingly said what she'd been thinking. "No, I never wonder…." The dream conversation was on her mind.

Jareth was torn, on one hand he could let her know he knew what she was speaking of. ON the other he could play dumb. "Excuse me?" he titled his gaze.

"I'm sorry…" she said quickly. "I was thinking about a dream I had."

"Oh," he shrugged.

She blushed, "It's nothing."

Jareth sighed, pushed off his wall and sniffed lightly. "You'd better move on… time has a habit of getting away from you." He said gently.

Sarah moved away from her bit of wall, slightly reluctant to allow the moment of peace between them to end. "Yes," she looked up half expecting to find a clock hanging. But there was none. "I must be going…on." She looked at the hall and was not sure which way to take.

Jareth turned her shoulders faced her in the right directions and pushed her forward. "That way," he whispered.

Sarah stared at the long tunnel, "No cleaners?"

"No," he answered.

"Promise," she asked.

"Promise," he said quietly. Sarah turned, her face inches from his. "Go, now…" She didn't move, and he couldn't back away. "Sarah…"

She nodded. "Thank you." She turned, and moved slowly at first, then in hurried steps.

Jareth sunk back against a wall and sobbed silently, feeling the same sense of despair he'd had in the puzzle room. "I believe in you," he whispered.

--

The High Queen was pacing in the garden in a world frozen in time. Each time she passed the little garden gnome she got the strangest feeling. She wondered why Oberon was gone so long, what could be happening. Curiosity getting the better of her she pulled one crystal from her hair and blew upon it. It grew from the size of a pearl to the size of a grapefruit. "Reveal," she commanded. She watched as the boy King turned the desire of his heart toward the right direction, and felt her heart break with his.

--

Thomas paced like a caged cat, "I don't see why I have to stay here."

"Don't you?" the High King asked pointedly.

The Fae pouted and moved to the window. "I don't see why Jareth gets to go out and about…" he muttered more to himself than to anyone else.

Oberon looked down at Becky who was once more reading the book. "Go on," he prompt. "Tell me more."

"Alright," she said and held the book for him to see. "This whole story seems to be mixed up in a lot of misunderstandings. Take this, the baby that got wished away…" The High King nodded, and the girl frowned. "The girl in the story insists on saying stolen… when clearly it was wished…and taken…"

"The Goblin King is not allowed to just steel children willy nilly." Oberon stated. "Rule says a child must be wished away…"

"But the girl never comes to grips with that, now does she?" Becky huffed. "Who is this Robin guy?"

Oberon snickered. "That my dear, is a long story."

"Well, I've got at least eleven hours left to Sarah running, so … tell." She kicked off her shoes and tucked her jean covered legs under her

"Where to begin," wondered the High King suddenly lounging in the throne much like his son often did.

--

Jareth sobbed dry racking sobs, feeling alone and exposed.

"Jareth," a disembodied voice broke into his private hell. "Jareth," the voice was feminine and commanding, and belonged to the High Queen.

Jareth looked up, "Madame?" he answered.

"Go after her…."

"I cannot," he sank back, "She does not want me…"

"But she needs you," urged the Queen.

Jareth shook his head, "No she's better off wining and leaving."

"Jareth, stop thinking of your self!" commanded the Queen. "A man protects that which he loves." She declared in a firm voice. "If you love her…protect her."

Jareth was about to protest when he heard the girl cry out. "Sarah," he said and moved toward the sound of her voice.

--

Oberon finished his tale, and looked down at the girl. "So you see, he actually goes by many a name…"

"Puck," Becky said and looked over at Thomas who was sulking; "They any relation?"

The High King snickered, "Not even the same breed really… You see Thomas' line has married into Fae families so often there's only the barest trace of Hobgoblin left… something on the very basic DNA."

"Enough," Becky retorted with a snort.

Thomas huffed to himself thinking she could not hear him, "I don't want him to say things he can't take back just because she's making him feel guilty…"

Becky caught it, but gave no indication that she'd heard. But her soul felt cold, and she picked up the book to cover her pain.

--

Jareth ran toward the sound, "Dear Goddess," he stormed. "She's gotten into the hall of mirrors of dark truths. No mortal can withstand them…" He knew that no Fae could either and cast a spell that would cover each looking glass with pitch just long enough for him to rescue the girl. "Sarah, where are you?" he called out.

"Here," she sobbed crumpled on the ground at a glass.

From the dark glass as he approached he could hear and slurring her words the girl asked harshly, "_**Do you want this or not**_?" Jareth froze for an instant, knowing his replay would come. "_**Damn right I want this**_," followed by the sound of his zipper. He reached down, scooped up the girl and took her away from the room of mirrors. Back into the long corridor and away from the memory of her shattered innocence. He didn't talk, he just led her away.

Sarah was still weeping, but could hold the guilt in no longer. The nights of dreams, the pain of her guilt and her torment over drawing the Fae King instead of the English boy into her dreams were weighing too heavy on her. "I can't do this," she moaned.

"Sarah, don't…" he said softly. "Come on, where's the girl you told me this is a piece of cake?"

She pulled free of his grasp. "She's gone…" She closed her eyes to blot out the world.

Jareth looked at the corridor and frowned. "Where are we?" he said again before he could stop himself.

Without looking Sarah knew that the Labyrinth had sensed somehow a weapon to use against her. She reached out a hand and found the door knob, without trying she knew it would not open. She opened her eyes and turned to the King. "We're in a closet of my nightmares." Jareth reached for the door, the handle would not give way. "Its no use," Sarah sighed. "It won't open."

Jareth looked at her, "You're wrong Sarah; you can open this door."

"No, I can't." she pulled back refusing to look at him.

"Sarah, why are we in this closet?" he asked her boldly as he cornered her. "Just tell me."

She looked at him with darkening eyes. "This…is where the girl you knew…died." Her back was now on one of the walls and she was pulling into her self.

Jareth looked at her softness in his stormy eyes, "You don't look dead to me, precious."

"I lost something here; something I can never regain…" she mourned. "All because I let myself be tricked by another girl who was after my… boyfriend."

Gloved hands reached out to her. "Sarah," he spoke coaxingly to her.

She looked at the gloves, shaking her head. "I lost my innocence here." The door popped open and a rush of wind sounded. Jareth's hands went down to his side. He watched her walk out of the door and move down the path way again. He slowly followed her, a few paces behind. The corridor opened up and they were in the throne room. Sarah looked at Becky sitting subdued at the foot of the throne, and at the man seated there. She turned to Jareth, questioningly.

The Goblin King looked at her, took a deep breath and said. "You win…"

Thomas opened his mouth to protest, but it was already too late.

--

Sarah stood in the clearing, Becky was at her side. Jareth stood looking guilt-ridden, Lord Thomas looked furious and Oberon stood looking piqued. Sarah took a breath, Marcy and the rest were still frozen, but nowhere did she see Jerry. "Where's Tom? Where's Jerry… you said if I won we all went free…"

"Tom and Jerry are here," Becky said sounding as if she'd lost her best friend. "They've been here all along."

Sarah looked at Becky, the red haired girl handed her the book. Taking in her hands Sarah felt the knowledge gleaned by Becky pass to her. She turned to Jareth and gasped. "How could you?" she dropped the book and shoved both fists into her mouth. "How could you do that to me…"

Jareth looked at her, uncomfortable with her seeing the truth and just how far he'd been willing to go to get revenge. He had not considered what her feelings at the end of his charade were going to be. Nor had he thought he'd care.

"Oh God," Sarah backed away. "I thought you were better than my boy friend… I thought you… were…" She turned her back on him. "Oh God."

Oberon looked at the young King, tempted to step in and fix this, but needed to see just what his fool of a son was willing to do.

Jareth produced a clock from his cloak and began to turn back the hours. The vortex filled the space and soon the world was spinning backward. Thomas screamed at him to stop, but the young King had made up his mind. His revenge was not worth the cost. He turned back the hours, the days, the moths and the entire year until he was standing alone in the ruins of the puzzle room. In this room he had retreated after finding himself left out of Sarah's celebration of her victory. He placed the clock down on the ruins.

Oberon looked at him, "Jareth that was… kind."

Jareth shook his head, "No, it was necessary." He moved away from the clock and looked at his ruins. "Sometimes a King must do what is necessary."

"Will you be alright?" Oberon asked. "You've lost to the girl twice."

"Did I?" Jareth crossed his arms, a cold expression on his face. "Did I Father?"

The High King frowned. "Do not take on Human glamour…" he warned. "Don't rent houses in my name, and don't interfere in the path that has been set for that girl." His robes whipped about wildly in the wind that had arisen and disappeared.

From a shadow a voice hissed. "I was proud to call you my king…. Now…"

"Don't be a fool Thomas," warned Jareth. "It's not over."

Thomas sulked as he came out of the shadows of the ruins. "You let her win,"

"No," Jareth corrected. "The Labyrinth let her win…"

"You didn't have to help her," Thomas complained. "Now we've both lost… you've lost your playmate, and I've lost…"

"Don't say Becky," warned Jareth. "Because you never had her;" He moved down the steps that remained. "Becky belongs to herself, as it was always meant for her to be. And the year will progress without us, and Marcy will never cross Sarah."

"It's all so easy for you," scoffed Thomas darkly. "Just a wave of the hand and everyone forgets."

"You've never loved have you?"Jareth said as he moved toward the circular throne room where the goblins had gathered to console him.

"Love, is a sentiment I have little time for," Thomas admitted. "Lust, power and satisfaction I've known and am content with."

"Love and its other side are more powerful," Jareth said placing his boot over the side rail of his throne and lounging back. "Sarah will remember… it will like one of her dreams… but she will remember…"

Thomas considered the King's words. "That's diabolical." He said at last. "Pity you cannot do the same for dear Becky."

"Becky was never the target," Jareth closed his eyes and tapped his boot with a riding crop one of the goblins had handed him.

"Too bad the game ends so soon." Thomas said as he gathered his cloak from where it was hung. "Alas, I find I have overstayed my welcome…" he bowed to the King. "Until next you have need of me," he turned and vanished.

The goblins looked at the King, waiting. Jareth closed his eyes and sighed. "It will all be like a dream…until the day she beacons me to come to her…" his lips pursed into a faint smile. "And beacon me she will…." He stated with confidence.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25.**

_**At sixteen, a year after the night she'd battled for the return of her wished away baby brother, Sarah had changed very little indeed. She still had eyes like green emeralds that had gone to liquid lava. Her skin was still flawless, and creamy. Her hair was still long, thick and the color of dark chocolate. Her lips still held honeyed promises. Anyone looking at her would think she was just a normal teenager. She dressed like the rest of the kids at school, she listened to the same music, she took the same classes and reacted the same way when assigned homework. However it was what most people didn't see at first glance that set Sarah Williams apart and made her a bit of a loner. Sarah had always been different, and it was more than just the fact that her mother was an actress. She was like a person out of step with time and her surroundings. She had never been a joiner, and didn't have many friends. When her mother had left the girl had pulled into a world of books and dreams, where the broken promises of adults in the 'real' world could not reach her. It was safe in her dreamy world and full of adventure as she played out all the fantasies a girl could ask for. The only thing was that she was alone in her dream world, with the exception of Toby and Merlin. Most of the girls she'd know even slightly were no longer interested in dress up, or make believe. Most of her school mates were interested in more grown up games, forbidden games. What few friends she had were putting distance between themselves and the girl who they felt was out of it.**_

_**Having turned sixteen just before the new school year, she felt a bit worn down when Karen her stepmother started asking about school the first week after it commenced. She got off easy that first week, because actually it was just three days to start with. But on Friday night when she got home, Karen had demanded, not asked but actually demanded to know what clubs Sarah intended to go out for this year. On the spot and feeling a noose tightening about her slender throat, she blurted out Service Club and Drama as they were the first things she could think of. Karen, satisfied walked off with a comment about needing to know what dues were due and if Sarah needed money for a club jacket or sweater. Sarah frowned; she was stuck good and solid. Like it or not she was going to have to apply for acceptance into the clubs or Karen would make her life a living hell. It wasn't that Karen was trying to make her life a hell, Sarah knew that now. Karen in an effort to improve relations, she had started asking Sarah to invite young folks her age over for a get together. Sarah had asked two long time classmates over on one occasion only…it had been a disaster, one that Sarah would not soon forget. The two girls she'd invited over didn't want to play board games, they wanted to discuss boys, Sarah felt like a stranger in her own home, and was determined not to let that happen again. If Karen needed her to join a club, she'd join a club, anything to keep up appearances. So long as she didn't have to invite someone over and feel like she was being forced into something she was not comfortable with.**_

_**Monday morning came and she got the information on the two clubs to take to study hall to fill out. Sitting in the back of the study hall she could see every one who walked in. The hall filled up with the usual kids and they took their usual seats. Nothing was assigned in this study hall you sat where you wanted, or where you were expected to. Geeks and nerds were at the far right front, going over notes for science or computer courses. Behind them at the right rear were the guys from the shop classes discussing efficient engines. Socialites were in the center and going over what activities they could join to be seen, mostly the girls as the guys didn't want to be seen as so climbing. At the left and rear of the room were the jocks tossing a foot ball about a circle as they discussed the big game coming up. In the front and left were the cool guys, and where Sarah sat in the back, just in front of the monitor's desk were the kids who either had not joined a group as yet, or had no idea what group to join. **_

_**Sarah brushed the hair back behind her ear, and watched the clock. One minute before the bell her eyes moved off the clock to the group of six boys who entered the study hall in a pack. They were mostly seniors, one or two were juniors,**_ Sarah looked to the door, somehow she was expecting someone to enter, and her pulse began to race with expectations. No one came, and Sarah had a huge feeling of disappointment. She returned to filling out the applications. She looked around the classroom once more, half expecting someone to come and speak to her, but no one even looked her way. Sarah fought down the surge of loneliness that always accompanied these bouts.

Sarah rushed down the hall to her next class. She paused at the door to catch her breath before she entered. Taking a seat in the back of the room she wondered if this could be the year she was going to blossom as her mother predicted. Linda had told her not to worry about being a social late bloomer, as she herself was one. The class was History, and while it put many of the other students to sleep, it fired Sarah up. She was partnered up as a study partner by the instructor with a girl she'd seen in other classes over the years, Becky Reynolds. Becky was a flaming red head, with a wild temperament but a good soul. Sarah knew Becky lived not to far from her and asked if she took the cross-town bus, figuring she'd have someone to ride with and converse with after school.

"Cross-town? Hell, daddy got me a Volkswagen for my sweet sixteen back in May." Becky said smartly. "Hey, I'll drive you home… maybe we can start our own car pool. What do you say; we can meet in the parking lot…"

Sarah hesitated, "I'm not going straight home today; I'm trying out for the Drama Club."

"Me too," Becky said in a gush of excitement. "OH it would be sooooo cool if we got accepted together! Did you find someone to sponsor you?" Her hazel eyes began to sparkle as she spoke. "I hear the Drama Club is one of the Club's sponsoring the big mixer this Friday… You're going aren't you?"

Sarah shyly hesitated; "I usually sit my kid brother on Fridays…but I'll see what my parents say." Sarah said covering her self for either response at home. After all Karen had said she wanted her to date and to get out more. Well she couldn't do that if she was at home with Toby. "You say the Drama Club is one of the sponsors of the mixer?"

Becky heard the passing bell and said quickly. "Meet me at the Drama Club meeting, I save you a seat if I get there first, and you do the same… I'll drive you home after." She waved good bye to Sarah and rushed down the hall.

Others rushed past Sarah as well; Marcy Daniels and her boyfriend David were traveling with the 'Bad Boy' crowd. Sarah watched them go down the hall and quietly moved to her next class.

The day's classes ended and Sarah rushed to the room where the Drama Club was meeting. Becky was saving a seat for her, and she joined her in the back of the little theater. They listened to the speeches by the out going officers of the club and awaited the list of who had made it. When neither Becky nor Sarah's names were read the girls breathed a sigh of disappointment. Becky stuffed her hands into her pockets as they exited the room along with the rest of the rejects.

"Well, there's always pep club." Becky said stoically.

Sarah looked at the door of the little theater. "I had so wanted to be part of Drama…"

"Your mom was one of the stars of the Drama club back in her day," Becky pointed to the pictures of the even then glamorous Linda. "She was quite the looker…guess having a family member who was in the club is no guarantee that they'll pick you." Becky lamented.

"Nope," Sarah sighed. "I guess we can go."

Sarah had expected the lot to be empty but was surprised to find a good many of the clubs had meetings after school and the lot was only half empty. Cars were scattered here and there, some with students loitering about them, talking to other students who'd been in club meetings, or waiting for someone to get out of a meeting. Becky pointed out the VW and they headed toward it. The parking place beside the little car was empty, and Sarah stared at it for a long moment.

"Something wrong?" Becky asked as she opened her door.

"I…" Sarah looked at Becky and shook her head. "No…" She got into the car with a strange expression on her face. She had the strangest sensation of tingling over her skin and she kept looking back at the empty space beside the VW.

"Come on, I can see something is wrong," Becky said fastening her seat belt. "What gives?"

"I had the strangest feeling just now… that something was missing…" Sarah remarked and looked again at the empty space beside them.

"Like a car?" Becky said staring at the empty space as well. "Thank God! I thought I was going mad."

Sarah looked at the red haired girl. "What do you mean?"

"I've been having weird vibes all day," Becky complained. "Like things were missing or out of order, or… just not normal. The only normal thing… is you."

Sarah looked at the space, once more. "Let's go home…"

--

Jareth held the crystal up to his eyes, and murmured softly; "Run, rabbit, run."

--

Sarah dressed for bed reluctantly; she had asked for and received permission to attend the Friday night mixer. She looked out her window, thinking there was something she needed to see. But there was nothing out there. Turning out her light, the sounds of something on her window drew her back up into a seated position. It was nothing more than the rain that was now falling. Sarah lay back down, and slept… troubled, dreaming, but slept.

--

Sarah dressed in her Star Wars costume excited to be going to the school dance. True she didn't have a date, but she was glad to be attending anyway. Becky had promised to come by and pick her up, and she was musing that the school year was not turning out so bad after all. She was not in Drama Club, but Pep Club was turning out to be more fun than she'd imagined. She was going out with friends, in groups, and that was a good start for a social retard she told herself. When she finished dressing in the Star Wars costume, she looked at her reflection and for a brief second saw a different costume entirely. Karen came into Sarah's room as she was fixing her hair; in her hands were a pair of white kidd boots. "Don't you ever tell your father where you got these from," she warned handing the boots over.

"Karen, are these yours?" Sarah asked smiling at her stepmother.

"Long ago, I was quite the fashion plate," Karen said saucily. She took a seat on the bed. "I talked to Becky's mom, and she's very happy to have you stay overnight. But I want you to remember Sarah, we expect you to follow the rules." She headed out of Sarah's room.

"The dance is over at eleven, and we'll be going straight back to Becky's from there." Sarah said not aware that her stepmother had already left her room.

Karen called up the stairs that Becky had arrived and that Sarah should shake a leg. Coming down the stairs Sarah saw that her friend was dressed in a nurses' uniform. "Great costume," she said looking at her with a bewildered gaze. As they walked out to the car, Sarah hesitantly asked Becky; "Was that the costume you planned on wearing all along?"

"No," Becky admitted shyly. "I had something else in mind… but…oh…it's just silly." She waved her hand as if to dismiss the thoughts.

"You were going to wear dancer's tights and a set of leg warmers in a shade of hot pink that hurt the eyes to look at." Sarah droned as if in a trance.

Becky's mouth dropped open. "How did you know that? I didn't tell anyone about that…"

Sarah shivered, "Must be some kind of spooky Halloween thing… I had the oddest thing happen up in my room… I was myself in something entirely different than this."

It was Becky's turn to shiver. "Spooky!" She gunned the engine and drove toward the school. "This dance is going to be an absolute blast."

Arriving at the High School, the girls ditched their coats and purses in Sarah's locker as it was closest. They mingled with other friends and danced. Sarah took a break and went to the rest room where she ran into Marcy Daniels.

"Sarah, that's a great costume," Marcy said as she passed the girl. "I saw your mother's latest flick, it was great! Must be nice getting to meet all those famous actors…" She droned.

Sarah smiled over at Marcy, who was dressed in a modest version of Elvira. "Thanks Marcy… I like your costume but doesn't Elvira have long black hair?"

Marcy laughed, "I couldn't stand the wig!" She pulled her own long blond hair and said coyly. "I'm supposed to be her kid sister." She was with a group of girls headed out of the rest room but paused. "Hey, Sarah…some of us signed up for the scavenger hunt, why don't you and Becky come along? The hunt starts at eight thirty and goes until ten…it should be a lot of fun."

"I'll ask Becky," Sarah promised as she moved into the room the others had vacated.

--

He had watched the events pass quickly in the crystal. What had taken a little over a year was but hours to him. The benefit of living in the FariyLands and the Underground. Time was different for his ilk, as was reality. He could visit any number of realities, but had interest in only one. He watched the girl, as he'd watched her before, and he smiled to himself.

--

Becky had taken the long way home, after they left the last place on the list for the scavenger hunt. She was driving past the estates at the edge of town when Sarah shouted for her to stop the car. She pulled the VW over to the side of the road and Sarah stepped out even before the tires had stopped rolling. She stood on the edge of the road staring at the dark house across the street. Becky joined her, looking first at Sarah, then at the dark house. "Let's get out of here," Becky pleaded; "That place give me the creeps."

Sarah looked at Becky. "I have nightmares about that house."

Becky's mouth dropped as it often did when Sarah said something that was striking the same cord in her. "So do I," Becky grabbed Sarah's hand. "You're in my nightmares…something happens… something…"

Sarah nodded, "Yeah, something happens to me…"

Becky looked down at her arms. "Oh God, Goosebumps!" she shivered violently. "Come on Sarah, let's go home." She pulled at Sarah's hand.

The green eyes were glazed and the girl seemed to be unaware of her companion. "He said it wasn't over…"

"Who said it wasn't over?" Becky asked watching as Sarah began to walk across the deserted road. "Sarah where are you going?"

"He said …" she shook her head, and the trance was broken. "What am I doing standing in the middle of this road?"

Becky pulled her back toward the VW. "It doesn't matter, we're going home." Her voice was firm and Sarah didn't argue or put up a fight.

--

Sarah lay on the spare bed in Becky's room, she listened to Becky tell her mother Carrie what an amazing time they had. Sarah had changed into her bedclothes first and was lounging while Becky gave her mother the run down on the evening, including the Scavenger Hunt. Carrie every once in a while would look over at Sarah and just watch her. "It sounds wonderful," she said at last and turned to Sarah. "So why do you look so…troubled?"

Sarah sat up on the bed, with her legs under her. "It's the strangest thing…" Sarah said. "All day I've been having these weird flashes… I'm not in these clothes… I'm not doing what I normally do… just really weird flashes… and then on the way home…" She paused but felt the urge to speak to Becky's mom. "On the way home, I made Becky stop the car in front of the old Winston Place. I keep feeling like I was supposed to be there…" Carrie listened, and Sarah worried that her friends mom would think she'd lost her mind. "I guess it's pretty silly…"

"Do you know what Halloween is?" Carrie asked Sarah while Becky went to change for bed. "It's the day when the fabric between the worlds is at it's thinnest…"

"What worlds?" Sarah asked wide eyed, goose fleshed and excited.

"Our world, the world of man, and the other realms… the Fairy Realm and the Ethereal planes." Carrie said in a knowing way. "See, long ago the fabric between the worlds was thin, and we visited each other's realms with ease… now… only a few remember that, and fewer even believe in the other realms…"

Sarah swallowed hard, before she whispered. "You believe in Fairies?"

"Believe in them?" Becky scoffed lightly. "She wrote her doctorate on the subject." The girl with long red curls bounced lightly on her own bed. "Didn't you Mom?"

Carrie nodded and laughed. "Yes, I did…" she looked at Sarah with a twinkle in her eyes. "I even danced in a fairy ring hoping old Oberon would whisk me away to the Fairy Lands…" She touched Sarah's face. "So, is it a Fairy or an Elf that taunts your dreams?"

"A goblin," Sarah looked down.

"A goblin," both mother and daughter repeated in astonishment.

Sarah nodded, "It's a long story…"

Carrie looked at the time. "It's after eleven, and your story will have to wait for another time, Sarah…Good night girls... sweet dreams." She moved out of the room, took one last look at the girls and smiled.

Sarah moved under the blanket, after bidding her friend sweet dreams, the girl with green eyes drifted off to sleep unaware of the ever watchful eyes that were upon her.

--

"Dream, dream my sweet… and call my name…." the command drifted on the magical winds. Moving from one realm to another, until it was heard by the ears of the girl sleeping in a room that was not her own.

--

_**Sarah found herself once more in the underground tunnel, this time all of the False alarms seemed to be asleep, eyes closed and unseeing. There were the sounds of heavy sleep in the hall and some of the faces were even snoring. Sarah crept past them softly, until she was once more in the little chamber where Jareth had been waiting for her in the beggars disguise. This time the chamber was empty, except for the discarded disguise on the dusty floor of the chamber. Stooping, she reached down to retrieve the clay mask that was attached to the brown felt hat and blue cloth that had been used to help disguise Jareth. Her hands trembled as she held them. On a whim she donned the cap, and draped herself with the cloth, wrapping it over her arms and holding it close. She brought it up to her nose and took a whiff. After all this time the spicy scent still clung to the fabric, filling her senses and making her slightly dizzy. Her back was to the spot that Jareth had been seated when he wore the elaborate guise. She didn't see him forming as she rocked back and forth, side to side, breathing in the scent of the Goblin King. "Jareth," she said quieting, unwittingly evoking his presence.**_

Jareth watched her with amused eyes from his hiding place in the shadows. He hated having to disturb her. He had waited quietly knowing she'd be here, knowing her mind would draw her to this place more than any other. Knowing that she would call him, and he could join her in this dream. "That looks better on you than it did on me," he said melodiously at last.

Sarah froze, her eyes popped open, and she knew she was no longer alone. "J..J..Jareth?"

"s..s… Sarah," he mocked her gently.

She turned slightly, looking at him with indignation over her shoulder. "What are you doing here?" She tried to keep an edge to her voice.

"Watching," he said in answer as if she'd asked what the weather report was.

Her eyes darted about the tiny chamber; "Watching what?"

"You," he said rising form the ledge he'd been parked on, he moved forward gracefully; "Watching you, Sarah."

Sarah shivered, and pulled the blue cloth closer hoping it would stave off the sudden chill she was experiencing. "There's nothing to see, you can move along." She moved her clenched fingers in a gesture urging him to move along.

"Oh I wouldn't say that," he crooned coming dangerously closer, his eyes raking over her. His voice had come from the back of his throat and sounded just a little sinister. "I'd say there's a good deal to see here, just now."

Sarah wondered why the hell it had gotten so cold, until she looked down. Gasping she pulled the long blue cape tighter around her now naked form. "Why did you do that?"

"I didn't," he said honestly. "I'm not complaining mind you, but alas I cannot take credit for this." He teased as his eyes traveled down the curves that were revealed under the cloth that hugged her figure.

"I don't believe you," she snapped.

"Sarah Williams, this is your dream, not mine… although I must admit, it does fire my imagination." Jareth taunted with a gentle voice. "As I said, my disguise, at this moment, looks far better on you."

"You did this," she began her harangue.

"NO," he stopped her forcefully. "This is your dream, you did this to yourself."

"Why are you here?" she moaned. "Why like this? And what did you do with my clothes?"

Jareth stood nonchalantly, placed on hand behind his back as was the style in a time long gone by. "My dear little girl," he said officiously, taking offense. "Do you think I've nothing better to do with my time than to undress teenaged girls who happen to drag me into their oversexed libido directed dreams?"

Sarah hung her head, guilt made her vulnerable and she didn't get pleasure from knowing he was right. "What is happening to me?" she muttered before she could stop herself. She walked away from him, to put her head on the wall. It was a moment later she realized that was a mistake, this was a trap and she'd fallen for it. She didn't have to look to know he had followed her and was standing over her in the same manner as he had during the first visit to these tunnels. She could feel the heat of his body radiating though his jacket. His scent, that wonderful spicy aroma that followed him everywhere and clung to the air was surrounding her in a heady ambush.

Placing a hand to her waist, gently, he murmured in her ear. "All dreams have a purpose, you can't out run them," he gently snickered and added; "Rabbit."

"I shouldn't have gone to sleep," she whispered to her self, before her eyes poped open wide. "What did you just call me?"

"Rabbit," he said in a throaty growl.

When the fingers on her waist tightened she gave a startled squeaky gasp. She looked over her shoulder at him. "What do you think you're doing," she pulled the fabric tightly about her body, making sure she was completely covered.

Jareth smiled at her. "What a lovely little Goblin you make," he murmured with musical quality to his voice.

Sarah turned, her back flattened up on the wall, she looked at his body language and remembered how he had been that first time. He was exactly the same now, his face held the same amused and exciting if somewhat haughty expression, and his eyes were giving her the same devouring raking over. Only now she felt exposed and for some ungodly reason damned excited. She swallowed; "Are you flirting with me?" she asked in disbelieve.

"Am I?" he answered her question with one of his own. His head dipped closer, "Am I?"

"You…" she paused, her heart pounding so loud, so hard she was fearful he could hear it when she opened her mouth to speak. "You are," she said at last. "You're flirting with me…"

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked in a tempting tone.

"No," she said feeling warmth spread and she knew she was blushing from head to toe. She pulled the cloth tighter but it didn't stop the feelings of exposure.

He leaned closer, tilting his head slightly, not wishing to have an eye poked out by the mask she was still wearing on her head. He smiled at her, charmingly, and was rewarded with a confused little Mona Lisa smile on the girl's face. "Sarah," he breathed her name moving closer, looking at her lips, before looking into her eyes. She tilted her face, just slightly as she looked into the stormy eyes that were focused on her. His hand was still at her waist, it began to move behind her, gathering her closer as he closed the space between their lips. "Time to end this cat and mouse game we've been playing with each other." Sarah's lashes fluttered in a long sweeping dance, coming to rest on her flushed cheeks, her lips parted under his. His hand rested in the small of her back, tenderly making lazy circles. He stalled the progress of the kiss for only a moment when the girl shivered violently. "Is something wrong, my sweet little goblin?" he asked smoothly.

Sarah's mind was reeling, thousands of thoughts and images flooding her. "What's happening?" She asked feeling like she was about to collapse. She kept her eyes shut tightly in hopes this would all just fade like other dreams she'd been having of late.

"Don't you want to hold me?" He asked smoothly as his lips moved softly over hers. "Wrap those arms about me and never let me go?"

"I can't," she answered opening her eyes and biting down on her lip, pinching his lower lip as well as hers. "If I let go…I'll be exposed."

Jareth pulled back, smiled charmingly and murmured. "Do you really think there's an inch on you I'm not acquainted with?"

Sarah blushed deeper. "This is not fair."

He laughed, not the gloating laughs she'd experienced at his hands in the Underground, but a tender affectionate laugh of a long time sweetheart. "OH Sarah." He rested his forehead to hers. "Sometimes your… innocence is just so damned adorable." He moved the hand at her back down to rest on the roundness of her fanny.

"Don't do that," she begged. "Don't ruin this moment. Not when I'm liking you."

Jareth's hand moved back up to the small of her back. "Liking me?" She nodded, unable to find words, and closed her eyes, fearful of seeing mockery in his. The Fae male regarded her for a moment; it was after all her dream, not his. He could afford to indulge her, this once, at least for a few more moments. "I'm liking you, too."

Green eyes opened again, looked soulful into the stormy blue ones. "I didn't understand." She whispered plaintively.

"What?" He asked wondering where she was going.

"In the tunnel, just before you took time from me…I didn't understand what you were doing." She looked embarrassed and uncomfortable upon the small admission. She shrugged, shifting her grip of the blue cloth that covered her nakedness. "No one had ever flirted with me that way before."

Jareth seemed to be considering her words, he looked at her thoughtfully. His expression became something Sarah had not seen before on the Fae King, it became sly; "And now Sarah?" His face moved closer, his lips were so close she could feel the heat coming off them. "Do you understand now?"

"Jareth," her voice sounded like it was pleading.

His lips grazed over hers, the tip of his tongue sliding over the outline of her tenderly bruised and lust swollen lips. His hand cradled her back as he deepened his kiss, wanting to touch her soul. He closed his eyes, enjoying that she was responding with equal desires, opening them sharply when he became aware that her arms were now wound about his waist. He could feel the heat of her body pressed to his. He closed his eyes again, triumphantly.

Sarah's body suddenly went rigid as the flood of thoughts and images and memories of another life invaded without regard. She made a horrified strangled sound somewhere deep in her throat. "Get off me," she screamed, outraged. She pulled her hands quickly from his waist and grabbed the cloth that was opening. "You fucking asshole!" She wriggled to pull free.

Jareth smiled calmly. "Why darling, what ever is wrong," his very tone mocked her struggles.

"I remember!" she seethed. "I remember."

"Good," he said with a glint in his eyes.

Naked under the blue cloth, barefooted and seething in anger she howled. "Damn you, how could you do that to me?" she wriggled carefully not wanting to play into his sexual games.

"How could I not?" he teased holding her without even showing effort. "Besides, Rabbit, it was you who dragged me into the closet…"

Sarah gasped knowing that they were no longer in the tunnel. "I thought you said you couldn't mess with my dreams…"

"I'm not," he assured her with a twinkle in his stormy eyes. "I'm just going along for the ride." He chuckled delighted in the mess she'd found herself in.

"Well the ride ends here," she turned to the door and with one hand holding the fabric closed, she tried to turn the knob with the other.

Jareth, still close to her, now slid his hands over the fabric, outlining her curves and growling in her ear. "You can't escape me, Rabbit."

"Go to hell, you… pig." She muttered still fighting with the knob that would not give. "I can't believe you let that happen…"

Jareth smiled as he slid his hands forward, gathering her into his arms. "I never felt so alive, so…fulfilled as when you had that lovely mouth of yours on me." He breathed in her ear.

"Pig," she closed her eyes tight, trying to ignore the hands move over her abdomen in exploration. "Let me wake up!"

"Not a chance," he said knocking her off balance and scooping her up into his arms. With one swift and powerful kick the door splintered and he stepped through. They were not in the tunnels and they were not in the Winston house. They were in a large, dark chamber that had only one piece of furniture in it. A bed.

Sarah looked at him, "No," she squirmed in his arms, but was held tight as he moved toward the bed. "You can't do this,"

"Yes I can," he said as he lowered her to the bed, straddling her. "Now be a good girl, rabbit… I'm going to return the favor and go down on you." He waved a hand, slowly the garments he wore dissolved and the Fae King was naked. Sarah closed her eyes, making a apprehensive and nervous little sound. "Oh come now, Rabbit… you know what I look like," He moved his hands over her as he inched his way down, forcing her legs to part. He positioned himself between her legs as he caressed her trembling body. "You know how I feel, and what I taste like… time to let me have the same satisfaction." His lips now touched her quivering abdomen.

"Don't do this," she begged. "I'm not ready…"

"Yes you are," he said as he slid his tongue into her navel.

Sarah shook her head, "No, you can't do this…you said the law said mortals have the right to dream unhindered by your needs."

Jareth looked up, his eyes met hers. "This is not for my needs, this is for yours." He mocked. "Now just be a good little girl, and let the big bad goblin have his wicked way with you…" he lowered his lips to the damp nest of curls that were exposed and now within his reach. His hands held her thighs forcing them apart and giving him access to her most private regions. The girl warbled as his lips moved into her heat. His eyes looked up to see her abandon the grip on the blue cloth. Her hands dropped down to the bed and gripped the satin coverlet he'd laid her on. The blue cloth that had covered her now revealed her upraised taunt breasts with the hardened buds. He watched her as his tongue slid for the first time into the folds that protected her sex. Her back arched, her breast jutted upward and her breathing became deep heaves. "My own little Venus," he murmured as he slipped his tongue against the moisture pouring out of her.

Skillfully he lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder, he was now slipping his tongue into her. She arched, and forgot all about modesty, she was moaning softly with each lick and flick of his tongue. Soon he had her bucking her lovely hips and grinding her muff into his face. Eagerly his mouth played with her, arousing her beyond what she thought was humanly possible. She was nearing climax, he could feel her ready to explode, looking up at her keeping her just this side of the orgasm he teased and taunted.

"Oh God, Jareth," she panted wildly. "Oh God don't stop."

"Tell me what you want," he prompt her knowing she was stimulated and aroused beyond reason. "Say it Sarah… say what you want…"

"I want you," she gasped.

"Not good enough," he tongued her again, still keeping her from release.

"Jareth," she pleaded again bucking her hips and grinding to his face.

He teased, flicking his tongue and driving her mad with lust. "You know what to do, what to say…"

"You win…" she moaned, arching and desperately needing release.

"Damn right I do," he moved quickly before she could consider what her words had been. With reflects like a cat, he had changed his position and was now thrusting his hardened manhood into her. "This is what you wanted, isn't it Rabbit?" he growled into her ear as he held her wrists above her head.

"Oh God, yes." She arch, waiting to meet each thrust and take him in as deeply as she possibly could. She had been so driven by passion that she'd never felt her maiden head being destroyed.

He rode her harder than he'd ever ridden any female, and he kept her just this side of the climax until he felt the jolt in his own loins. Then, baring down and thrusting into her with all the force he had, he clamped his mouth on hers and growled into her open lips. "This is not a dream, Sarah… this is real." She arched, beyond caring, beyond reason, beyond hope… and found release as the Goblin King claimed her and gave himself to her in one swift and explosive release of his seed.

Sarah lay spent beneath him, as he bathed her face with his gentle kisses. She looked at him and whispered in a hoarse voice. "That's not fair."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26… Epilogue**

Jareth lay beside the girl with green eyes, contented and spent. He had watched her drift off into sleep while she lay curled against him. He had won, perhaps not fairly, but he had won and the girl would never leave him again. He had won.

Sarah stirred, rolled to her side, opened her eyes to slits and closed them again. "I'm dreaming," she murmured.

"No, Rabbit," he said tenderly. "Not this time."

Sarah's eyes flickered open, as memory flooded. "You cheated."

"A little," he admitted slyly.

"You forced yourself on me…" she berated him, as she began her accusations.

Jareth sat up, with a wolfish grin on his face. "I didn't have to force myself on you… you invited me…"

"After you …." She blushed and covered her face. "Oh my God."

"Well if you want to be vulgar about it, yes," he teased priying her fingers free. "And you liked it."

"You're a pig," she accused.

"Oink." He answered.

Sarah looked at him, then at their surroundings. "Where are we?"

"A place in the middle," he answered; "Away from the mortal realm and away from my castle."

Holding the sheet she was under to her chest, she sat up and looked at him. Her hair was disheveled, and her lips were swollen and bruised from the rough kisses they'd shared. "What happens now?"

He touched her face tenderly. "What happens at the end of all good fairy tales, Sarah… We live happily ever after…." He sighed. "I won…"

Sarah cocked one brow up. "You cheated…"

"I won," he repeated.

"Not fairly," she scorned.

"I won!" he crowed.

"Bullshit," she stated.


End file.
